WANTED
by Kiku No Tsuyu
Summary: To hunt evil you have to know evil and Charlie knows the dark hearted better than most. This bounty hunter has finally bagged their greatest quarry but it seems the devil himself is hell bent on cursing the road to justice. One unlucky mess of a night and one good-natured cripple boy's company leads the hunter with no real identity to a place to start over... a place to be wanted.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lawless though I really wish I did. Only the OC is mine.**

**Rated M for violence and strong adult themes **

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**Prologue**

Boots were digging into the cold hard dirt road beneath the bitter man's feet as he kept his weight pushing forward against the frame of his car, trying his damnedest to steer the broken down metal box on wheels. Three miles at least he'd pushed hoping the beat up old sign pointing to Blackwater Station five miles back was accurate. The engine had gone out of the blue Ford so unexpectedly Charlie was certain the devil himself was trying to interfere with his work. Bound, gagged, and blindfolded on the backseat was a man, evil through and through, and the bounty hunter was taking him in for judgment. A lifetime burning with the need to watch that particular bastard's death on old sparky fueled the fire that kept Charlie's slender body pushing that damn car.

It was early winter in Virginia, no snow on the ground but the air was bitter cold. Clouds of breath snorted out from flared nostrils as the car finally crested the small hill Charlie had been pushing it up for what felt like ages. Under the thick layers of unimpressive clothing he was sweaty from exertion, panting but determined to finish the goddamn job. The rumble of an engine sounded on the road behind him and out of habit Charlie lowered one hand near where his trusty riffle hung at his side. With his hat pulled low over uncompromising blue eyes he looked over his shoulder at the oncoming truck, instantly counting three men, two in the cab and one standing sentry in the truck bed armed just as he was. They looked a rough sort. In Charlie's experience the rough sort don't stop for strangers unless they are up to no good and he had enough trouble bound and gagged in the car.

Assuming the truck would ride on by Charlie stopped pushing and stood aside to give them room to pass on the narrow dirt road, hand on the rifle hidden from view by his body should there be trouble. There was nothing friendly about his demeanor, jaw set and eyes hard he grit his teeth when the truck came to a slow rolling stop beside him.

An intimidating man sat on the passenger side, a tough unsmiling son of a bitch with a cigar between his lips. Charlie had seen many brawny skull breakers in his day and knew just how to read em. The healing pink scar across that fellow's neck told a story of a man not to be fucked with. Someone had slit his throat and that someone no doubt was dead now.

It had been over a year since Charlie had been in this neck of the country, mostly unaware of the local rumors or scandals but he could see a reputation stamped all over the scowling piece of work sizing him up. When sharp grey eyes spotted the riffle hanging on the stranger's shoulder Charlie's gloved fingers came to the rim of the beat up old hat covering close cropped blonde hair and nodded politely in silent greeting, first at the clear ring leader then at the bear of a man standing in the bed of the truck... making it clear he wanted no trouble.

Wooly brown hair stuck out from the tall man's worn hat over rugged features. The bear of a man probably had not seen a barber's chair in months. His clothes were disheveled and even from the distance Charlie picked up the tell-tale scent of moonshine wafting from the country boy, most likely spilled on his clothing while drinking on the drive. From his perch the gruff man ran his distrustful bloodshot gaze over the armed stranger but nodded, unsmiling, with a quick bob of the chin.

Glancing back to the cab of the truck Charlie ran a quick glance at the youngest, the clean shaven fresh faced driver. He was a fetching boy with light in his eyes, a youthful kindness to him. Well, the world would strip him of that soon enough no doubt.

Charlie heard a throat clearing grunt and looked back to the passenger with the piercing grey eyes. Full lips formed the words around his cigar when a smooth rumble of voice asked a question that sounded far more like a demand. "Where you headed to?"

A low hoarse tone left Charlie's throat, "Sign a few miles back pointed to a Blackwater Station."

The stranger pursed his mouth, puffed the cigar once then looked to the driver. "Help him push the car Jack."

From the expression on the boy's face it was the last thing the youth wanted to do. Even so, Jack did as he was told, getting out of the car as the broad shouldered, almost hostile clear leader of the group scooted toward the wheel. The truck took off without another word.

Distrustful eyes darted toward the approaching young man left behind to help. His clothes were homespun like Charlie's, trousers just a little too short and shirt just a bit over worn, obvious hand me downs. The boy could not be more than twenty one.

"I'm Jack Bondurant. My brother Forrest owns Blackwater Station." He offered a boyish smile and a dirty hand.

The stranger took it, shaking it firmly in his gloved grip. "Charles."

The kid moved straight toward the back of the car to push, completely oblivious to the fact no surname had been offered. Jack chattered a bit, asking questions that went unanswered during the journey, pouring complements on the shiny blue Ford he was pushing. It may have been a pretty car but the fucking thing had broken down right in the homestretch. The sun set during the last two miles of their trek and with the dark Jack seemed to quiet. Dog tired and mind full Charlie heard the creaking of Blackwater Station's sign calling to them those last few yards until the car came to a halt near the outlying garage.

Looking up after a deep final breath Charlie pulled off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow, locking eyes on Blackwater Station. It was a simple building, just what you'd expect from a country gas station. A two story wooden structure, plain, with a porch that spanned the front set in tall surrounding woods. Tin signs advertising motor oil, cigarettes, and Coca-Cola splashed a little color against the wooden walls. A few chairs graced the tidy porch, one full of the intimidating piece of potential trouble sitting and sipping on a brown mug of steaming coffee. The scowling male, Forrest Charlie assumed, was a big fellow, built strong as an ox and seemed like a no nonsense hardened country boy. Unlike his younger brother his clothing all fit and unlike the bear of a man Charlie had seen in the back of the truck, Forrest simple apparel was tidy, buttoned proper, and clean. It spoke volumes about the man. He struck Charlie as a well-organized type of person, not the kind to fly off the handle but not one to back down... ever. Men like that were dangerous.

From the distance Forrest's eyes were hidden in a shadow cast by the brim of his hat, the low porch light offering little to make out his expression. From the tautness of his thick neck and shoulders it seemed he was expecting trouble though... and Charlie had the sense it wasn't from him.

Leaving the car and its precious hidden cargo Charlie walked through the dusty yard, passed the gas pumps, and strode right on up the porch steps.

"Forrest Bondurant," that same gruff throaty voice sounded. It was an unpretty thing, hard on the ears and sounded like the after effects of some great sickness. "I have a proposition for you."

An impassive expression was revealed when Forrest's head tipped back just enough to meet unflinching blue eyes, to look close again at the man caught on his road. Charlie watched him dissect his features, knew what he saw. Years of practice had taught Charlie the method to make a face look how you wanted, ever so subtly pushing his jaw forward to fake and under bite, narrowing eyes and squinting to crease the skin and appear older... and the dirt... it was miraculous what a little dirt could hide. One thing he couldn't hide was the diagonal scar running down the center of his bottom lip where as a kid it was busted real bad.

Charlie watched the man take a sip of coffee before Forrest answered with a grunt, "You here to do some business?"

Shaking his head in the negative he knew what Forrest was implying. This was Franklin, wettest county in the world and anyone who was anyone bootlegged. "I have no interest in your liquor." A borderline amused sneer came to Charlie's lips. "I have cargo in my car that I need to transport as soon as possible. Ain't got no time to wait on getting that engine fixed."

The man leaned back in his chair, unimpressed with the stranger on his porch. "And what do you want me to do about it?"

"I will pay you one thousand dollars for a three day ride from here. Leaving now."

A snort that could have been mocking laughter if the man had cracked a smile came from bootlegger. "What's in the car?"

There was no point in lying. "A convict on his way to the electric chair."

Forrest ever so slightly cocked his head, a sign that maybe he was intrigued or maybe he was offended. Knowing his riffle sat on steady shoulders Charlie waited, hoping he did not have to kill these men to see his job through.

"Ain't got no one to drive you." It was dismissive.

"Find someone."

The bold aggressive grey eyes blazed so hard Charlie was sure other men had stepped back as if burred. He did not. He stood his ground and kept his face impassive. "The bounty I am carrying is a very evil man... a man who killed my twin brother and harmed my mamma and there is nothing that will stand in my way of getting him to justice."

A grunt, like the growl of a wolf came from Forrest as he measured what he'd heard.

Charlie spoke again in that rough voice, "I don't care if you are a decent man or a bad one, you got family... I take it you understand my position."

A long moment of silence stretched between them before Forrest took a long breath. "I will offer you one night's shelter then you and your _friend_ will be on your way. Lot a men round these parts won't take too kindly to your type if understand my meanin."

It was better than nothing. Charlie tipped his hat in mock politeness and went back to the car to pull out the filthy piece of shit lying across the back floor. Forrest watched the bounty hunter manage his much taller chained prisoner with ease even though it was clear the convict was being difficult. Standing from his seat on the porch the head of the Bondurant family opened the screen door and looked toward the stunning redhead watching with cautious eyes from the bar.

Things had been bad lately, the ATU was breathing down Forrest's neck, that corrupt special deputy Charlie Riggs's coming at him day and night, threatening his family and livelihood... the last thing Forrest needed was more trouble and trouble was written all over that bounty hunter. The chained prisoner was pushed through the door with the roadside stranger leading him over to a chair situated in the center of the room, a position that would cause his blindfolded guest to trip through tables and chairs if he tried to run. Charlie roughly sat him down, taking the seat beside and facing his prisoner.

"What the hell is this?" The bear of a man Charlie had seen standing with his shotgun on the back of the truck bellowed from the bar, putting down a half empty jar of moonshine.

Forrest cleared his throat and stated once, "They'll stay one night and then they go. Maggie, uh, get them some food. Howard, keep an eye on em."

The youngest, Jack, was watching with a dropped jaw before mumbling to himself, "A real life bounty hunter here, in Franklin."

Slowly Charlie looked over his shoulder toward the boy with a hard incredulous stare. "You ain't seen me, hear?"

"Uh, yes sir..."

"Jack, you head on home," Forrest grunted lighting a new cigar and taking a seat at the bar near the redhead.

The woman scooped up two bowls of unheated canned soup and brought them over, eyeballing Charlie as if he were a snake that might bite. Doing his best to be polite Charlie nodded and offered a, "Much appreciated, ma'am," when she set down the food and spoons. He put a five dollar bill on the table and slid it near her. "Keep the change and thank you kindly for the hospitality."

It was clear that she was the ring leader's woman, a beautiful lithe thing who went straight to her man's side ignoring the money on the table. From the way Forrest watched her move then settled his eyes right back on Charlie's profile as he began to supervise his captive it was clear, any slight on the redhead would spell trouble.

Reaching forward to loosen the gag Charlie lowered the saliva saturated cloth from the prisoner's lips and grunted, "Dinner."

The prisoners jaw dropped in false anticipation and Charlie narrowed his eyes. Taking the spoon he put it in the man's mouth and began the infuriating process of feeding him.

"Rule number one?" The bounty hunter growled after shoving in a spoonful.

"I eat when you tell me to eat." It was a musical voice, seductive, and full of sadistic glee.

"Rule number two?"

"I piss when you tell me to piss." A smile came to well sculpted lips of the older man. The fucker was handsome, a devil with charisma that drew in the women he liked to slice apart with ease.

"Rule number three?"

"I fuck up... you cut something off." The prisoner took a bite of soup, lips curved in a vicious smile as if the idea pleased him.

A low vibration of threat came from the bounty hunter's chest, "And that is my favorite rule."

Something changed in the air and Charlie recognized at once that it wasn't his prisoner's doing. Glancing to the side he locked eyes with steel grey and knew Forrest felt it to.

"Howard," the man growled, "cut the lights. Maggie, get down behind the bar."

Howard rushed forward and flipped the switch just as the large front windows shattered in a spray of bullets. All Charlie could think was that the man in his custody would die on his terms, not by some stray bullet to the head. Shoving his captive to the ground Charlie ducked low and found cover by the window. Riffle at his shoulder sharp eyes scanned the encroaching hostiles. Forrest and Howard were in a similar position beside him, their own firepower raised and shooting haphazardly into the darkness.

Whatever the hell this was Charlie had no plans on dying just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a cursed fucking night. The men at his side killed two of the fellas firing before Howard was tagged in the shoulder and fell back with a grunt of pain.

"I ain't got time for this shit," Charlie mumbled as he scoped the strangers attacking the station. With the rifle true at his shoulder he found men in the night by the flash of their weapons and only pulled the trigger once for each kill. Five men died under his rifle... and silence came to the yard.

This was the world he knew best, bullets and bloodshed. With his sharp eye Charlie knew it was over before the Bondurants. Standing, he stepped through the glass and over the casement to check the bodies lying in the dirt and bushes, to see if any were known to him. The toe of his dusty boots turned heads, two he recognized from Chicago. Low ranking thugs. Forrest came up behind him as Charlie rasped, "These ain't ATU... That man there and this one are hired goons from Chicago. Someone wants you dead Mr. Bondurant."

"Charlie Riggs..." Forrest was not sharing information, he was speaking the name as a curse.

"I've heard of him. Riggs is one sick corrupt bastard." Charlie nodded. "If I were you I'd just kill him and make sure that body was never found."

"Forrest!" Maggie was calling, voice anxious, from inside the dark station. "Howard's hurt."

Forrest moved like the wind toward the shout and Charlie followed to make sure that none of the stray bullets had hit his prize. His chained captive was breathing and right where he'd left him. Reaching for the man Charlie dragged him up to set him back in a chair.

Like a striking snake bound hands shout out in a slash and a stolen piece of broken window glass sliced though Charlie's clothing, marking his belly in a gash.

"Ronnie... You just broke rule number three," It came from Charlie's throat with menace as he felt warm blood soak his under shirt.

The maniac was laughing as the glass fragment was taken from him. The butt of Charlie's riffle cracked the man in mouth, knocking out a front tooth before the filthy gag was put back. Laughing despite the abuse the bound up man filled the room with odd evil unsettling noise.

"Forrest..." Maggie muttered fearfully when the stranger stood and went to the wood burning stove heating the room and shoved in the poker.

"You might want to turn around for this, ma'am." Charlie pulled a massive hunting knife from under his baggy clothes. It took him less than two seconds to have the dangerous prisoner under his knee, pull the bastard's filthy hands as far as the chain around his waist would allow. Like chopping off the head of a chicken Charlie severed a finger as his prisoner screamed and jerked beneath him. When it was done the red hot poker seared the wounds shut amidst the animal cries and sickening smell of burning flesh.

"Cross me again and the next thing I cut off won't be a finger," Charlie snarled low, lips pulled back over his teeth. Picking up the severed finger Charlie crossed to the broken window and tossed the digit into the yard.

The glamorous redhead was appalled but Forrest looked on Charlie with something akin to approval. Blue eyes broke from grey to look over the wounded Howard. He was sitting in the floor, leaning back against the bar, shoulder bleeding something terrible. Forrest pulled the neck of Howard's shirt to the side to find a gaping bullet wound below the collar bone right near the shoulder. Maggie looked worried and pale as Forrest began to poke at it.

"He's losing a lot of blood and you are never gonna get the bullet out that way." Charlie had come right up upon them.

Howard's bloodshot eyes were locked right on the bounty hunter. "And what do you know about it?"

"Clearly a lot more than either of you." Charlie's attention went to Maggie. "Pull a few tables together. Forrest help me him lay him down when she's finished." His eyes locked at the pained expression of the bleeding man. "I'll get that bullet out and stich you up clean."

Forrest saw his brother suffering, saw that heavy bleeding, and helped the stranger lift his brother as Maggie pushed two tables together. The stranger grunted out a list of tools he required and like a flash she gathered what was needed.

"He your brother?" The stranger asked leaning down with sharp eyes to inspect the wound.

A grunt and a nod were his answer as they peeled away Howard's blood soaked layers of clothing. Blue eyes darted over the collection of shrapnel scars and old bullet wounds the man already had on his lean muscular body. From the look of him Charlie suspected he'd served in the Great War, placed him in his mid-thirties though it was clear years of hard drinking had aged him.

Clean wet towels were brought and the blood wiped away. As instructed Maggie held up a lamp to light the stranger's work. The handle of a wooden spoon was placed between the wounded brother's teeth and with a calm tone Charlie took Howard's arm and sat a hip on the table, wrapping the wounded limb around his midsection to keep the angle needed to do his work. Forrest stood on the other side of the table, arms already in place to brace his brother.

Blue eyes became suddenly very soft, the tension in the stranger's face gone as his voice changed to a soothing whisper, "Look at me, Howard..." Calming in its tone that voice held him and those blue eyes glowed like sapphires. "You are dipping your toes in cool water. The air smells of autumn and warm things. Breathe in and out real slow." The stranger nodded as the man began to visibly relax. "That's right. Keep looking at me and try not to break any of my ribs." The last words were said with a disarming smile.

The second Howard was about to laugh moonshine was poured on the wound and he screamed instead, biting down on the wooden spoon. Quickly pulling off one thick glove Charlie coated his slender fist in the shine and reached right into the wound as the body jumped and jerked under Forrest's restraint.

The bullet was caught between thin delicate fingers and pulled free quick as lightning, landing with a clatter on the floor. Wiping away the blood on his fingers Charlie pulled the glove back on right quick before spilling more moonshine to disinfect the wound. A clean towel was placed over the injury and pressed down good and hard to stop the bleeding. In his pain Howard had clung to the stranger's hip, bruising no doubt but Charlie had not complained.

"Can I sew you up without your brother holding you down?" Charlie asked looking to the man who had kept his eyes locked on his as ordered.

Howard swallowed and nodded.

"Keep breathing like I told you."

Charlie pulled a needle and thread through the ruined skin. The whole "operation" took less than five minutes. Once the final knot was tied and soft gauze pressed to the tidy stitches the gloved fingers of their roadside stranger came to the man's jaw, took the wooden spoon before that once again silken whisper said, "Well done soldier," with a soft smile.

Carefully unwrapping Howard's arm from his middle Charlie stood and laid it across the man's ribs. "You'll need to keep it in a sling for a few weeks."

"You're bleedin," Howard spoke in a gruff pained voice as the spoon was removed.

"Ain't nothing. Just a scratch." That coarse warped voice was back, pairing nicely with the hard expression and narrowed eyes that returned to the bounty hunter's face.

Charlie walked away to sit near his prisoner and left the Bondurants to sort themselves out. Maggie's looked toward the kitchen where she found wholesome food and brought it to the stranger, not that canned soup trash from before. It was a measure of kindness and a silent act of gratitude. Once the plate of cold ham and biscuits was given Forrest led his woman upstairs.

"I know what'cha are," Howard grunted, his head leaning toward Charlie, his tired voice minorly amused.

"I am the person who shot five of the seven men sent after you and yours. I am also the person who just dug a bullet out of you instead of letting your brother muck it up. That's all I am." Charlie warned with complete seriousness.

Howard gave a shit eating grin though his eyes were laced with pain. "That's more than a scratch. Tend to it quick before he gets back."

The stranger stood and moved toward the open jar of shine and the unused first aid supplies. Pulling his layers of clothing up to expose a smooth flat stomach decorated with a bleeding slice in need of stitching. Howard found the soft curves he'd felt under the layers of concealing clothing and rested his gaze on the stranger's scarred exposed flesh where someone had clearly shot Charlie long ago. Like lighting the stranger stripped off the gloves and those same slender fingers reached for the jar, took a deep swallow, then splashed it on the bleeding cut with a hiss. Breathing hard through the burn a needle was quickly threaded and Charlie stitched the skin back together.

"Watch your breathin," Howard corrected, seeing the woman in pain.

Sapphire blue eyes darted to his as she smirked in amusement and whispered in her real voice, "Words of wisdom, Howard Bondurant."

Three more stitches, another painful splash with moonshine and Charlie pulled her shirt down, covering her stomach just as Forrest's boots sounded on the top stairs.

Bloodshot blue eyes locked on to her, "I'll keep your secret."

"Good. After fixing you I don't really want to kill you and put all my hard work to waste." Her tone was playful as on a whim Charlie ruffled back Howard's unkempt brown hair. By the time Forrest was in sight the stranger was eating the food Maggie prepared, watching over his prisoner as if nothing had happened since he left.

"At dawn our mechanic Cricket Pate will take you where you need to go," Forrest spoke with authority pulling out a fresh cigar and igniting a match.

Charlie's face was hidden behind the controlled organization of her features. Looking over her shoulder she nodding down the brim of her hat in appreciation once and grunted out, "Much obliged," in a coarse ugly voice.

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	2. Chapter 1

**I was so excited to get good feedback on the first chapter! Thank you you awesome folks you: marulk, AvalonTheLadyKiller, and mystery guests! It really made my day. **

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**Chapter 1**

**Six months later:**

After dropping off crates of moonshine around Franklin and in locations beyond the Bondurants had one final place to sell before heading on home. Unlike his brothers Forrest was not a man who put much interest in local festivities. Reserved and a man of business he took little pleasure in the noise and revelry but decent satisfaction in the money made from his labor. The Willard's barn dance was a typical mid-summer party, the same kind of event he and his kin had attended since he was just a boy. Knowing the crowd, Franklin locals would no doubt line up the second Jack and Howard set up for business, buying up the rest of his stock. Bondurant moonshine was as quality as shine could be and mighty popular with their neighbors.

Through the ongoing distribution Jack had arranged seven months prior with the gangster Mad Dog Floyd Banner in Chicago Forrest was making money hand over fist. He didn't really need to sell in small quantities anymore but as a creature of habit and a forward thinking man he knew that prohibition would end sooner than later and was determined to make as much of a profit as he could while the gettin was good. Showing his face amongst his neighbors as the indestructible fearless myth the people of Franklin labeled him also kept trouble away these days. He understood the power of reputation, used it to his advantage, and would do so again that night as he spoke with the menfolk, bootleggers and lawmen alike.

It had been five months since Maggodee Creek's infamous shootout but even so Forrest heard the locals still whisper. He'd survived three bullet wounds that day saving Jack's hot head from the cocksucker Charlie Riggs, proving yet again that there was nothing that could take him down. The death of that corrupt government bastard had brought nothing but gratification to Forrest. It had been months of threats and attempted intimidation: a cut throat, Jack being beat to a pulp... and what those men did to Maggie. Charlie Riggs got off lucky with a few bullet wounds and a knife in the back. If Forrest had had his way it would have been a far more prolonged death.

With Charlie Riggs a corpse in the ground the heat was off the Bondurants now. All those who had been sent to shake him down, to try to steal from a him or harm what was his were dead or running scared, frightened of the man who survived no matter what had been done to him. With the ATU run off, that commonwealth attorney Mason Wardell under indictment on charges of corruption, and the local law giving the Bondurants a wide berth things had been pretty quiet as of late. And thanks to Maggodee Creek Forrest Bondurant's legend had become something far beyond indestructibility... He was a force to be reckoned with, larger than life, and known far and wide as man you did not want to cross. That shootout had made the Bondurants untouchable and kept their business sought after but there had been a price. Maggie had gone, following through on her threat to leave when Forrest and Howard rushed off to save Jack from his utter stupidity running off to take on Charlie Riggs alone.

From the first moment he found the glamorous fiery haired woman smoking at his bar he'd been a little taken with her. Deep in his bones Forrest knew Maggie was not their kind, that she was only passing through, no matter what she claimed. As they grew closer he'd seen the signs time and time again. The way she talked about Chicago, the adventures she'd had... Franklin had nothing to offer a spirit like hers... had only brought her pain. As he was laid up in the hospital recuperating from the bullet wounds he'd collected saving his baby brother he grasped that she was already gone... like a puff of sweet smelling smoke. Not that he could blame her with all the trouble she'd been surrounded with and the things that had been done to her.

Rationally Forrest could have gone after Maggie but he didn't. His code made it impossible for him to lie to himself, even if a part of him wanted to keep her. She didn't truly want what was before her and no matter what sweet words he might have stung together or overtures he might have made Maggie needed to stay cause she wanted to, not cause he tried to sell her on the idea a second time. He would not compromise on that point. Odd part was, when he came home from the hospital to find the station empty Forrest had felt strange relief mixed in with the dejection. He'd lain with her when she came to him, silently enjoyed her quick smiles and pleasant disposition but with her gone he had to wonder if all those things had been enough. He'd brooded over it for a good long while.

Stepping through the door of the Willard's barn Forrest took a good look around. It was a lively crowd, good county music being strummed out of a banjo while the congregation danced and laughed. When Forrest stalked forward the men naturally moved out of his path. Not a particularly social creature he got straight to business and ordered his fool brothers to setup in the corner. With the dark of night the scene was dusky under glowing oil lamps and almost soothing to the man with his full lips wrapped around a cigar. Howard and Jack began to sell the moonshine and applejack they brought to the line of folks already forming. Leaning against the wall, brim down low over his eyes Forrest observed the party as the menfolk spoke of business and sipped their jars.

"Well, look at that," Deputy Dooley, a man on neutral terms with the Bondurants declared after a long sip of shine, "Ain't she just bright and shiny..."

Glancing to what had caught the nearby man's attention Forrest's gaze landed on the golden hair of a woman standing near the barn door. It was clear the stranger was nervous even though she softly smiled while bright blue eyes took in everything around her. Her clothes were different, the cotton unfaded and looking new, unlike most of the dresses sported by the local women. She looked just a little out of place but eager as she walked forward with slow cautious steps.

Forrest lost her in the crowd then the masses parted just enough for grey eyes to find her sitting alone on a bale of hay and his brows drew together in a scowl. There was no one with her and it seemed no one that she had come to meet. He watched her delicate hand smooth bobbed finger waved hair as the unknown young woman looked up with a little self-conscious smile on her red painted lips at the friendly approach of Bertha Minnix. Jack's sweetheart sat beside her and made her acquaintance without a hint of hesitation. The golden girl smiled, delighted at the company beside her and they fell into comfortable conversation. The little preacher's daughter said something that made the woman giggle and press a hand to her heart. It was then bright blue eyes darted up and found Forrest, his brim pulled down low over his eyes, looking right at her from across the barn.

She could not tell at first if he was watching her exactly or something nearby until he inhaled and the glowing red tip of his cigar illuminated the lines of his deeply scowling face. Forrest's sweet tobacco saturated the air as she unflinchingly met his gaze and waited almost expectantly, braced just slightly in challenge. After three heartbeats Forrest could see the blush creep up her cheeks as her eyes darted back to the girl at her side. A few moments later deputy Dooley approached the women and asked the stranger for a dance.

From a distance Forrest could read her sculpted lips form the words, "I don't know how."

The boy must have said something right because the beautiful woman shrugged with an impish smile and offered her hand. She hadn't been lying... she was awful but did her damndest and was having fun anyway. Bolstered by the encouraging partner she laughed her way through a lesson in country dances as the local sheriff grinned down at her. She tripped again and instead of looking up at her partner she looked right at him. Forrest held her gaze, mesmerized and oddly provoked.

With Forrest's attention diverted Jack had managed to slip off, snaking through the crowd toward Bertha. Grunting in annoyance when he saw his baby brother's escape Forrest turned toward Howard and kept a close eyes on the business. Jars and bills changed hands and the barn dance continued. Grey eyes kept darting to the crowd drawn involuntarily to that golden head. She danced with several locals, drank punch, and seemed to be quite happy chatting with Bertha and Jack.

Forrest heard Howard grunt on the step up behind him, breaking the spell. Looking up toward his brother he saw a strange look on the man's face. Howard ran a hand over his scruffy cheek then back though his wild brown mop as he looked across the party, eyes locked exactly where Forrest's had been. When Forrest looked back he found the golden girl smirking almost wickedly as she nodded once at his older brother who was grinning like a fool and rubbing his shoulder.

She laughed at the eldest Bondurant but her attention was taken when Walter Keck, a local drunk, stumbled up and asked her to dance. Poor man was the first she turned down that night. When he shuffled off it was clear even from this distance that the farmer was good and soused.

Sitting with Jack and Bertha the three of them spent the next hour in smiling conversation until at length Jack said something that took the glow from the strange woman and she appeared... sad. Business picked up as the party reached its zenith. Between transactions and conversing with the local men Forrest missed her departure. Sucking in a deep breath of tobacco he felt oddly deprived when his eyes next looked for that strange golden girl and found nothing but the ordinary dull palette he was so accustomed to in Franklin. A moment later Walter Keck stumbled back inside, his left eye turning black and blue as he ambled toward them... only to fall flat on his face, passed out on the barn's dirt floor.

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Walking up the creaky wood steps and seeing the place in the light of the sun made Charlie pause and glance around. It was still just a typical backwoods gas station. The same tin signs, small fridge for Coca-Cola on the porch, side garage for fixing cars where Cricket had slept when he was not home taken care of his aunt Whiney. The air smelled like the bloom of summer, a little dusty with the heat of warm drying grass. A fly zipped past her, buzzing noisily as Charlie's hand went to the door latch.

Forrest was only just making his way in from the back where he had been unloading the truck with Howard. Looking up as the screen door whined he found a slender arm pushing it wide. With a careful step low heels sounded against the wood floor and the woman… the very woman who had so confounded him just the night before… stepped into the station. A smart blue dress outlined the shape of her hips and narrow waist as she entered with polite caution.

He watched her look around the room with a hint of a smile, her sapphire blue eyes taking it in as if familiar to her, as if she were pleased with all she saw. The screen door shut closed with a snap behind her and Forrest cleared his throat, watching the golden girl walk straight toward him, all polished city elegance.

Before she could part her rouge painted lips Howard came bumbling in behind him arms full of a crate of applejack, preparing for what was sure to be a busy Saturday night. The man froze, the tinkling of the glass jars betraying how quickly Howard stopped short at the sight of her. As his brother set down the crate Forrest reached for his hat with controlled slow movements. Howard followed suit, quickly snatching his hat from his head and pressing it to his heart to show good manners toward the female.

Her smile was back, a little trepiditious as she closed the distance between them. "Good morning, gentlemen. I was hoping I might have a private word with you both." Her eyes scanned the room to find it empty but needed confirmation. Charlie purposefully chose the morning hours hoping she might catch them alone. She received approval in the form of a grunt from the broad shouldered head of the household.

Those big blue eyes darted to Howard and she gave him a warm smile and nod of recognition before settling back on the face of Forrest Bondurant. She could tell he was sizing her up, immediately uncomfortable and distrustful. After quickly chewing her bottom lip she simply opened her mouth and got to the point. "I want to apologize, Mr. Bondurant. The way you were glaring at me at the Barn dance last night… It's my fault really; I should have come here first but…" Her voice trailed off a little, "I couldn't help but enjoy Franklin for a spell before we conducted our business."

"I don't… rightly know what you're talking about, Ma'am." The tips of his ears were red and it was clear Howard beside him was a touch uncomfortable the way he kept shifting his weight between his feet, looking almost guilty with quick darted glances down at his brother.

Unaffected the woman absently smoothed her hands over her tailored skirt. "First, I would like to give my condolences about Cricket. I liked that boy… my time with him was…" She just shook her head, the soft blonde finger waves bouncing lightly next to her jaw. The light in her eye grew dark and it was clear there was a slice of wrath seething under the surface. "Last night I heard what happened and I am grateful you did your duty by that boy."

Ever so lightly his brow twitched and the formidable man before her stopped focusing on something on the wall behind the shining woman and looked straight at her face. The intensity of those eyes on her, it made her cheeks flush just a little but she held his gaze wondering just what he thought of a woman like her... very little she suspected.

"How you know Cricket?" It was almost an accusation though his voice remained steady and low, grey eyes taking her in.

Charlie's attention went to Howard and she lifted a brow, it could not be that Forrest Bondurant did not recognize her. She knew the elder brother had almost from the moment they met eyes at the dance. The tall wooly head briefly shook in the negative, a movement that was not missed by the dominant middle brother.

Cocking her head to the side, a touch of confusion in her voice she asked point blank, "Mr. Bondurant, are you telling me that you don't recognize me?"

Her only answer was a short throaty grunt that clearly stated he was certain he had never laid eyes on her before the barn dance. Nodding she offered a hint of an uncomfortable smile, unsure what she had done to garner his disapproval at the party. The power of those grey eyes was something to been seen. Very few men shook her but something about that penetrating gaze made her feel... unsettled. Planting her feet a little apart she straightened her spine and lost the small traces of delicacy, eyes serious she looked first to Howard then back to Forrest and his intense determined glare.

The entire quality of her voice shifted, became almost masculine. "The night of December 12, 1930 my car broke down a few miles up the road as I was transporting a prisoner to be executed."

The crease grew between Forrest's brows as the glowing blonde woman continued the story. Howard was nodding, squeezing the hat pressed to his chest overly tight and distorting the felt. His bloodshot blue eyes locked on her and his face serious.

"I offered you a thousand dollars for a ride. You found it unacceptable at first, but you and I came to a soft agreement after a group of thugs attacked your gas station… something to do with your bootlegging and corrupt state law enforcement. I shot five of them in your defense and stitched up Howard here in exchange for your friend Cricket to drive me to New York. I sent the $1000 along a few weeks later with a newspaper clipping to show you just who you helped rid this world of. Thanks in part to you the serial killer known as The Slasher, a man responsible of the murder of at least twenty seven people, is rotting in the ground."

Chewing the toothpick between his teeth and even with his rough old hat pressed to his chest as a sign of respect for a lady Forrest Bondurant took an intimidating step closer, his lips set in a grim line. This was not the unkempt face and scratchy voice from that night; this was beauty and soft music. Where were the harsh angled jaw and beady eyes... the dirty hair cut short like a man's and the broad shoulders? She was feminine, proportionate, and willowy. Even from the near distance she smelled like soft things, hell she looked soft. "You are telling me that you…"

She cut him off before he could continue. "Yes. I am." It was clear that this man was accustomed to people respecting his authority to an extreme but Charlie's instant reaction to an attempted intimidation was to maintain her own power. "After our little shootout I spent three days with Cricket as he drove me and my prisoner where I needed to be, talking my ear off the entire way about Franklin. He was a sweet boy with a gentle way about him... painted a picture of the kind of place and the type of people I have always though could never exist." For a brief moment she let herself free of his glare and looked out the window at the greenery she'd been enjoying for the last two days. Her eyes went back to the sharp steel grey that was watching her with an unreadable fixation. "Which brings me to the first reason I am here, I would like to stay." She saw the instant darkening of judgment in the Forrest's gaze and quickly added, "Just for a short time. I am not here to cause any trouble and I am asking your family for permission. I know the Bondurant name is a powerful thing around these parts and if you wish it I will drive away tomorrow."

"And just what do you want _here_?" It was gruff and he held her gaze with his steady intensity, looking this side of displeased. He was fixated on her mouth, remembering the scarred lip of the bounty hunter and realized the pretty red lipstick was nothing but camouflage.

"I'd like to sit and look at things." She knew once the words were spoken that neither of the Bondurant boys understood. In fact they were both looking at her as if she were a peculiar specimen in a jar. Clearing her throat she took a small step back from the over nearness of the broad shouldered man. "What I mean to say is, the way Cricket Pate talked about Franklin. The small glimpse I had. It would be nice to sit and rest in the quiet." Pursing her lips a little she glanced to the side. "It's been years since I have had the chance to sit still… and look at things."

He could not help but think of the last city girl who had come through his door. There was a deep throat noise behind the slashed scar that ran across the front of his neck, "Woman like you don't belong here." It was abrasive and clear.

Though her shoulders did not sag it was impossible for Charlie to hide the look of disappointment that flashed in her blue eyes. "I understand. In that case let me cover the second reason I came to see you today and then I will be on my way." She pulled her eyes from the startling grey and looked down into the bag hanging from her shoulder. She began to smile lightly, delicate and feminine again as her fingers found the rectangular frame. Lifting it out she held the small framed photograph between her and the middle brother. "I brought something for Cricket. Seeing as he is in heaven, and the way he spoke of you Bondurant brothers, I suppose you are the nearest thing he had to kin. I think that he would want you to have this."

It was a candid shot she had taken of Cricket at the wheel of his car, smiling and full of life as he spoke of Franklin. Her fingertip brushed it warmly and her eyes were soft again. Lost in her fond memory she gave a small snort of a laugh through her nose and spoke almost wistfully. "I really did like that boy."

Forrest moved his hand with the speed of cold molasses as he reached out to take the photograph. As she adjusted the lighter weight of the bag on her shoulder she looked up to find Forrest looking at the picture, his scowl even deeper than before.

With a friendly smile her sapphire blue eyes met Howard's half-drunk gaze. After slipping off her glove she lifted her fingers in the offer of a handshake. "It was nice to see you, Howard. Glad to see the shoulder mended so well." He looked just dumbstruck as he took her hands and pumped their joined fists once.

After croaking out a, "Ma'am," he released her hand and looked down at Forrest.

When her attention went back to the middle brother she found him almost unable to look at her. Politely she offered her hand. "I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me. I won't trouble you further."

He looked at her slim elegant fingers as if they were a hot poker ready to burn him. Hesitating he cautiously wrapped his hand around hers so lightly she could not tell if he were actually disgusted to touch her. He did not shake her hand but rather turned it as his eyes studied the light smear of bruises across her knuckles. Forrest did not know what on earth possessed him but he growled a little and brushed his thumb over the marks.

The callus of his thumb as it swept over the bones of her knuckles made the color rise to Charlie's face and after a breath she slowly pulled her fingers from the heat of his hand. Howard's eyes saw the same thing Forrest's did. She had punched someone good and hard to earn bruises like that.

A slow spreading grin replaced the stupid expression Howard had been wearing. "You the one who clocked Walter Keck last night?"

As she pulled her glove back on to hide the damage she shrugged her shoulders. "He is lucky that's all I did. Bastard cornered me in the parking lot and would not take no for an answer."

"Jesus, Forrest." Howard began to laugh with a wheeze. "You should let her stay for that reason alone. Wally is one dumb sumbitch." The huge shiner he had been sporting when he stumbled into the party and passed out had made Howard laugh so hard he almost dropped his jar of moonshine.

She tried to fight the little curve at the corner of her mouth and bit her lips to keep from laughing with the tall bear of a man.

"You ain't never gave us your name." Forrest's soft spoken grunt was like that of a mother correcting a child with bad manners.

With a quick bashful grin she realized her blunder and answered quickly in apology. "Charlotte Elliot… Charlie." Her eyes were dead serious when the met Forrest's once again determined gaze. "After I am gone I would appreciate if you and Howard continued your silence about my _profession_, even from your brother Jack. He's a sweet kid but quite a free talker. There are a lot of bad men who would relish the chance to slaughter a bounty hunter, especially if anyone learned I was really a woman… and I would rather continue breathing." She turned toward the door but looked over her shoulder as if a sudden thought struck her, "Oh, and Jack can keep the blue Ford I left behind… he seems rather fond of it. Anyway, the new bullet holes decorating the side would draw more attention than I need right now." She finished the statement laughing softly to herself.

"You can stay." Forrest grunted it so lowly Charlie was not sure she had heard him.

She turned back toward the two men behind her with a slow spreading smile lighting up her face. "Really?" Her entire expression was like that of a child as they tore into their Christmas stocking. "I can stay?"

Forrest nodded with a throat noise and quickly looked away from her clear elation, shuffling his mass slowly toward his office. Howard was grinning at his brother then shot a wink at the glowing blonde framed in the sunlight behind her. He ain't never seen a woman look so happy.

"Be seeing you around, Miss Elliot," Howard teased at her back when she turned to go.

Calling over her shoulder the woman met his playfulness, "Call me Charlie."

"Charlie's a boy's name," the tall gruff eldest Bondurant teased wickedly, cackling at the glare his brother Forrest shot him.

The woman just laughed loudly as she climbed through the screen door and set off toward her car.

"Well, I'll be damned." Howard announced as he slouched back into a chair. Pulling open his thread worn coat he reached for a jar of shine and twisted off the cap. "I can hardly believe that foul mouthed ball breaker looks so damn fine in a dress. I like her! You think she'd marry me if I asked?"

"You knew who she was last night." Forrest was not asking a question.

Howard only gave a grin. "A man don't forget eyes like that."

"You knew it was a woman..." Growling and angry Forrest turned toward his brother.

"The second she braced my arm around her hips and I got a feel of just what was hiding under all those clothes I suspected. When she started speakin soft... offerin comfort before she dug her bare hands right into me I was certain."

Forrest looked thoroughly pissed off. A few moments later Jack came bounding through the door.

"Was that Miss Elliot? She stop by for lunch or something? I wonder what a fancy city lady like that would be doing here?" It was an endless stream of light hearted babble. "Was she lookin for work?"

Howard tipped back his chair, took a long swig and grinned at his youngest brother before he said with what sounded like complete sincerity, "She came by to court me."

Jack made a rueful face and gave Howard a small jab in the shoulder. Forrest grunted, eyes under his brows as she gave his eldest brother his most unamused glare. From the sparkle in Howard's eye it was clear that he was gonna have some fun with that woman.

"A woman like that would never look twice at you," Jack rolled his eyes. "She is a nice girl, spent most of the evening last night talkin with my Bertha. That car she drives is pretty beat up for a lady who dresses so fancy. Wonder where she comes from? Bertha said she was in town from Richmond but her accent sounded more Chicago to me."

Coarse and moody Forrest changed the subject, "You get them cases of mason jars?"

* * *

With the windows down Charlie felt a lighting of her spirit as the wind played through her hair. The air smelled thick with the heat of summer, rich with the scent of earth and growing things. Virginia was beautiful country, lush and verdant… just what she had been dreaming of. Her grin would not stop… after the way that overwhelming man had been watching her last night she was certain he would shoo her off. Whatever had changed his mind she was nothing but grateful for it. It had been so long since she had been able to sit back… hell it had been a lifetime since she had even been able to safely wear a dress, grow out her hair, and openly be a woman. Charlie was looking forward to every minute of this new existence.

After the night spent at Blackwater Station and once her prisoner was a smoking corpse on the electric chair at Sing Sing she'd done her research and learned all about the Bondurant boys and their fierce reputation. Rumors of their doings made it all the way to the darker corners of Manhattan where she lurked until the transformation from man to woman was complete. Half the tales were unfounded gossip no doubt but if half was true... they were a dangerous bunch. Even so, Forrest seemed like a man of principle and even Howard, soused as he was, had a sense of honor to him. Both were lousy shots though.

After her arrival two days back she found the town folk had all been just as Cricket Pate described. Most were charming, a tight knit group who stood together a touch cautious of outsiders. Charlie had soaked up every story, memorized each name that boy had shared and replayed his tales over and over in her mind over the last six months until they felt like she had known them her whole life. Everyone had been polite and the pretty petite Bertha Minnix had taken the time to welcome a stranger and get to know her. It was unexpected to have anyone make her feel welcome and Charlie was beginning to feel a small sense of peace

Parking outside the boarding house she grabbed the weight of her bag, comfortable with the heavy Smith and Wesson pistol she kept stored inside and stepped out of the sun and on to the covered porch of Nightingales Boardinghouse. The name alone amused her. Sure, she had stayed in plenty worse places but a fancy title did not change what it was, dingy with a persistent musty odor. But it had indoor plumbing and three semi-decent meals a day… except Saturdays. She had discovered just the day before they brought in a local woman to cook so the owning family, the Fontannes, could take a day of rest. Unfortunately said local woman was a terrible cook. Charlie could not really point fingers, she could barely toast bread herself.

The warm air in her room pressed her skin as Charlie rolled her neck and sat back on the small bed smack dab in the middle of her room. It was comfortable enough. On a whim she simple lay back on the quilt and closed her eyes with a smile playing on her lips. She could stay…

Unfriendly grey eyes filled her mind. She still did not know exactly what she had done to anger the backbone of Franklin's infamy but she would make her peace with Forrest Bondurant or they would simply ignore each other until it was time for her to move on. After seeing him up close again she could see why men feared him, there was something about him that just exuded authority, especially with his soused guard dog of a brother at his back. Thinking of sweet Jack and his much smaller frame and far easier smiles she wondered if the youngest Bondurant did not feel a little out of place in the family. He had been close friends with Cricket, talked of him even last night with a voice full of fondness. When Charlie caught on that the boy was dead she'd wished she could have watched the bastard who killed such a sweet thing suffer. Angry like she was she left the party early before her temper showed, then that drunk asshole got grabby and she got violent...

She'd dreamed of Cricket the night before, mind still fuming over his murder. The memory of the first time she'd clamped eyes on the boy filled her mind. That cold winter day where she found a light in his words, a light that slowly infected her until she felt the stirrings of an unfamiliar sensation... hope.

_ "He ain't gonna..." Cricket swallowed and darted nervous eyes at the tall chained captive with a hood over his head._

_"No, Mr. Pate," Charlie grunted as he tapped his hat on his head. "He ain't gonna hurt you. Just keep about five feet from him at all times. He tries anything I'll break his knees."_

_The scrawny boy swallowed and nodded, hands shoved into his worn trouser pockets._

_"Damn brave of you to drive us. Makes you a hero seeing this man brought to justice." Charlie knew what boys wanted to hear, especially ones that were as timid and meek as the one standing before her._

_The encouraging words worked like magic and a smile came to Cricket's pale face. Without another word he helped Charlie load the car and stood back as the bounty hunter chained and tied down the convict to the back of his beat up old truck. She covered him with a tarp, ignoring his grunts and climbed into the cab. A few minutes later and they were traveling down the road where Cricket began to talk... and boy did that boy talk. He talked while they drove, while the camped, ate meals, prepared for bed... it never ended. Oddly, it did not bother Charlie. The way Cricket spoke of things was poetic, indicative of a sharp intellect and a sensitive nature. The more the boy talked the more he smiled and all his talk was about one thing, the thing he loved most. Franklin._

* * *

"Jack, load up them Crates," Forrest pointed then turned to the tallest of the bunch, "You too, Howard. When I get back I better not see you two jackasses foolin around." As he walked toward the General Store Forrest fingered the iron knuckles he kept in his cardigan pocket and glanced out the side of his eye toward the boardinghouse. Her car was there, clearly the woman was back from wherever she disappeared to every other time he had come to town over the last week.

He did not find it to be prying, more an act of social welfare. Having given his consent that she could stay if that woman did anything, harmed anyone, it was his responsibility to answer for it. Hell, he'd watched her cut off a man's finger without flinching... god only know what else she was capable of. Growling in his throat he looked back to the small wood path that led toward his destination and just about ran into the very object of his thoughts.

Clearly she was far more lost in her contemplations as she turned back forward and ran face first into his broad chest. With a yelp and a hurried apology Charlie took a step back and looked up into those hard disinterested eyes. "I am so sorry, Mr. Bondurant. I was not looking where I was going."

"S'alright," He looked past her and breathed out his nose making it clear she was not only in his way but annoying him as well.

Instead of stepping aside as she could see he expected her to do Charlie simply cocked her head and took a moment to look him over. It was habit to size up men, to see where the weapons were, to see how best to defend herself if need be. He was dressed the same as all the other country men, well except maybe Jack who seemed to be a little prissy now a days. Homespun trousers, clean but worn cotton shirt with a grey vest haphazardly buttoned around his middle. She had noticed at once the weight hinting at one of his front pockets of his cardigan and knew what must be inside.

When her eyes went to his hat he reached for the article and pressed it to his chest, minding his manners despite the obvious inspection by the small golden female. After a pregnant pause where he was looking anywhere but at her he finally made a mumble of some deep noise and stepped around her, leaving her there without so much as a good day. Arching a brow she turned to watch him go before the low chuckles of the eldest Bondurant reached her ear.

"I don't think he likes you too much, Charlie."

With a halfcocked grin she turned to see the gruff and frumpy walking sense of humor offer a doleful face. She could not help but laugh at Howard, "That's for damn sure."

It was clear by the sound of the door banging closed behind her that Forrest had heard the whole little interlude. Closing the distance she went to stand in the morning sun with Howard, squinting at the light. He pulled off his hat and used it to shade her eyes as she continued to meet his up to no good expression. "Been behaving yourself, Howard?"

As if proud of his drunkenness he grinned. "Not hardly."

"Color me surprised."

He liked her spunk. "It's been a week since you came down to visit us, _Miss_ Charlie. When you gonna come on back to the station?"

As if sharing a conspiracy Charlie leaned closer and whispered, "Well it's Saturday, which means the cooking at the boardinghouse is inedible. Maybe I'll stop by for some lunch."

"Supper's better, that's when things get real excitin." There was a teasing leer in his offer as he brushed back his uncombed mop of hair.

It felt good to banter the way she was used to. "Spending my evening with a bunch of drunks does sound tempting but on this instance I think lunch will do me just fine."

These last few months she had missed male companionship, resented the way men spoke to her once she put on a skirt. The upside was it was the first time in her life she had been friendly with women. Bertha Minx had taken to her almost right away… that funny little Brethren girl had quite the playful streak. They had only spoken twice since they met, fortunately running into one another in town as her father ran errands where they sat in the shade and chattered like magpies. Charlie liked her, enjoyed the immediate acceptance of her new acquaintance.

The Fontannes had also been more than accommodating, but each time that sat down to meals it was growing tiring how the Missus would prod into her life. At first polite vagueness had been simple but now it was clear the old woman was getting annoyed with the lack of information Charlie was willing to share.

When the sound of the General Store door creaked behind her Charlie tossed Howard a rueful smile and sauntered away, eyes downcast before Forrest could give her more long disapproving looks. A few steps later she heard an oomph of sound come from Howard and was certain Forrest had gotten his revenge for the mocking.

* * *

**Reviews are most welcome! Thank you for reading. **


	3. Chapter 2

**I must say that I really appreciate those who took the time to review. You are wonderful and I would hug you if I could: AvalonTheLadyKiller and marulk.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

When noontime came she did as Howard suggested and drove the five miles from Rocky Mount to Blackwater Station for some decent food. The familiar whine of the screen door announced her arrival as Charlie stepped gingerly inside. Looking around the room she noticed several local men perched around the tables eating and sipping on jars of white lightening or cups of coffee. The atmosphere was pleasant. Jack was sweeping the floors while Howard, just about three sheets to the wind, sat at the bar staring forward with glazed eyes.

Walking up to the bar she slipped onto the stool a few seats down from Howard and found Forrest tending the grill, his back to her but his eyes watching her every move in the mirror above him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Bondurant." She greeted each one the same then smiled at her photograph of Cricket hanging from the post by the bar.

"Well hot damn!" Howard was suddenly less slumped and eyes full of trouble. "If it isn't Miss Charlie."

"Lower your voice, Howard," Forrest growled over his shoulder, "You're making a damn fool of yourself."

The smells of decent cooking from the griddle had Charlie's mouth watering. Peering around Forrest to see just what he was making, blue eyes wide she leaned precariously off her stool to find the sizzle of something wonderful looking.

"You want somethin, Miss Elliot?" Forrest gruffly asked her reflection at length.

Still transfixed on the food she asked, "Hmmm?"

"I wish she'd look at me the way she is eyeballing your cooking, Forrest. Fix the girl a plate already." The eldest sounded falsely petulant as his lips went back to the rim of his half empty jar.

Watching Forrest cook was fascinating. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up, displaying strong muscled forearms as he worked. A man of economy, not only with words but movement, in under two minutes she had a chicken fried steak covered in gravy set before her. He served it silently with a cup of steaming coffee before going right back to the grill.

Charlie could hardly contain the sounds of satisfaction as she ate her first really good meal in weeks. "Dear god, Forrest. I could kiss you."

It had completely gone past her that she had used his name so informally but it did make Howard chuckle into his glass. There had been no talk as she struggled to remember her manners and eat slowly, so caught up in the meal she missed the red that crept up Forrest's ears or the dark glare he leveled at her in the mirror as she ate. Eventually she looked up from the plate at the broad expanse of shoulders pulling the cotton of his button down shirt taunt as Forrest leaned a bit over the grill.

"Have you enjoyed sittin and lookin at things?" Howard asked after a loud slurpy swallow.

Setting down her fork and wiping her mouth with a napkin she looked to the friendly drunk and let a huge grin split her face. "More than I can say."

"And just what have you been sittin and lookin at?" He asked, leaning with a wobble and looking at her with mischievous eyes that seemed far more sober than he was letting on.

Her grin spread as she turned on the stool to face him. For the next fifteen minutes she rattled off a list of scenic places that Cricket had told her about, everything from the deep woods, a swimming hole, the best place to stargaze, speaking animatedly as she gestured with her hands. Though he never turned to face her Forrest listened to each word she spoke, darting glances at the woman's reflection as she smiled at his brother.

"Lots of deer around these woods. I have been thinking of going hunting but…" She stopped as she realized how utterly inappropriate such a thing would be for a woman to say and froze with an embarrassed tint to her bearing. "uhhh…"

The grunt was heard from Forrest before he turned to face her and asked incredulously in his low grumble, "You hunt?"

She could already feel the color slowly crawl up her face. Reaching for the now cold cup of coffee she mumbled her answer into the mug and took a tiny sip. She hated the stuff but needed something to cover her big mouth. Her dress felt suddenly constrictive as she realized once again she'd been acting like a man.

"Damn, Forrest," Howard interjected with a low teasing as he rubbed the bullet wound in his shoulder, "We already know she hunts."

The shine of sapphire eyes betrayed mirth as she whispered. "I guess you cannot deny that." Her demeanor shifted and with a controlled friendly expression she asked what was owed, put money on the bar and left.

"Have fun sittin and lookin," Howard shouted after her before Forrest reached across the bar to smack his loud mouthed brother upside the head.

* * *

It became her Saturday ritual. Lunch at Blackwater Station was something she looked forward to all week. She would sit at the bar and banter with Howard, teasing him just as much a he teased her. When Jack caught on that she always came down he too made a point of laughing with Miss Charlie. It was the same each week, Howard would be about halfway into a jar Jack would be sweeping until he lit up with a grin and set the broom aside to join her at the bar for lunch. Forrest responded to her greeting with his customary grunt but always had a plate of something wonderful for her to eat, ready at noon on the dot.

On her sixth visit Forrest had been watching her in the mirror, and saw that once again she had not touched the mug of coffee set by her now empty plate. It bothered him. Hell, she bothered him. Fixating on her every little movement of her mouth he failed to notice that he awkwardly interrupted her conversation in the middle of a sentence and finally just asked, "You don't like coffee?"

Surprised he addressed her she turned her big eyes toward him with a genial smile, brushing her hair behind her ear. "No, Mr. Bondurant. I do not care for coffee."

Her cup was immediately taken away. "What do you like?"

It was the most words he had spoken to her since their first meeting and she looked actually surprised he was acknowledging her presence. "I like hot tea."

"Don't got that." He grumbled as his eyes went back to the griddle.

"Beer's fine too." Now she was teasing. He froze and looked up to see her watching him in the mirror, her eyes shining as she took in his scowl. "I also like liquor… you got that?"

Jack slapped the bar, laughing at her playful banter but to everyone's shock Forrest turned around and reached under the bar, pulling out his own famous applejack. Unscrewing the lid he set it before her in a silent challenge.

There was no hesitation as long slim finger flared around the mason jar and with a smirk on her full red painted mouth she raised it up and took a big swallow. The liquor sent waves of heat and sweetness right to the center of her belly. With a loud sigh of contentment she set it back on the bar and smacked her lips. "That's pretty good, Mr. Bondurant. Where'dya get it?"

Now it was Howard's turn to howl with laughter and even Forrest gave a grunt that almost sounded like approval before he took the jar away, poured a little in a glass to make her look proper. It was bad enough she came in so often, it would start rumors if she'd be seen drinking at lunch. Charlie watched a darkness cross his eye and waited until he noticed her regard. Once he was paying attention she offered a small peacemaking smile, offering silently to be friends.

Staying later than usual she sipped her small drink and played gin rummy with Howard and Jack while Forrest puffed on his cigar and worked over his ledgers at a separate table. No matter how much cajoling his brother sent his way Forrest refused to budge and join them, determined to finish the work the long day of the distracting female had interrupted. Ignoring him and the occasional lingering looks she felt he touched on her skin Charlie leaned back in her chair and had to admit, it had been a fun afternoon for her.

Jack pulled open his suit jacket and pulled out a worn cigarette case offering one to Charlie, "You want one, Miss Charlie?"

"No thank you, Jack. I don't smoke; got enough fire chasing after me that I don't need to suck it into my lungs." She was shuffling the cards, adept and flashy to make the men laugh before she began to deal.

As the younger brother began to put the case away without lighting one himself she looked up and smirked. "Don't let that stop you. I don't mind if you smoke."

The grateful look he tossed her was not missed, puffing on a finely shaped roll of tobacco. "Where do you come from?"

The youngest was bound to ask eventually still having no clue they'd met before. Tossing around the cards she answered, "I have moved from place to place for so long that I don't rightly know."

"You got family?"

Subtle vagueness was best. "It's just me now."

"Stop pesterin the woman, Jack," Forrest grunted from the nearby table when he recognized the caginess growing around Charlie's shoulders.

Charlie winked at Jack secretly relieved question and answer time was over. When she stood to leave her eyes caught Forrest's. That intense scowl was back again, glancing away she felt an odd roll of disappointment in her belly. For just one moment there she thought perhaps she had grown on him a little.

A few Saturdays later appeared to be the final straw. Charlie came to Blackwater Station later than her usual time, already in a mood after being cornered by her landlady and once again asked far too personal questions. Why didn't she work? Where did the money come from? Was she secretly married and on the run from her husband? Had she abandoned her children…? The situation had grown more and more outrageous until she lost her temper and shouted at the woman to leave her the hell alone.

The drive in the early autumn foliage had done little to calm her nerves as Charlie realized that she was not actually looking forward to what had become her favorite weekly pastime. When her car rolled to a stop outside Blackwater Station she seriously considered just starting it right back up and getting the hell out of there. Before she could turn the ignition Jack was at the door with a smile calling her to come inside.

"We were worried about you, Miss Charlie. Where have you been?" He said with his normal upbeat sweetness. He was just like a puppy beating his tail wildly in his exuberance as he held the door open for her.

She followed him inside. "I got trapped in an interrogation by Mrs. Fontanne."

"Bout what?" He asked as he pulled out her stool.

Her grumbled answer disappeared when she found her food already waiting for her. The smooth grain of the old polished bar top felt familiar under her fingertips as she reached for her napkin, placing it in her lap and began to eat what might just be the world's best coleslaw.

It was clear she was in no mood for talking so Jack fell into conversation with Howard. More specifically, Jack talked while Howard ribbed him and foul language bounced back and forth between the two. Listening to the men Charlie continued to stare at her plate, aside from the slaw Forrest had made her a sandwich filled with chicken salad. It was good but her face remained impassive as she thought over all the questions the old woman had embarrassed her with. _Did you abandon your children?_ What the hell? Her whole life had been dedicated to taking care of her mamma. Who the fuck was that woman to assume she shirked family responsibility?

Jack was relating the excitement of the run he had made the night before, ignoring Forrest's glare that now might not be the best time for such a tale. Oblivious, Jack ranted on until at long last he finished with, "…just like goddamn Al Capone."

It came out unbidden as Charlie replied, her voice full of venom. "Al Capone is a first rate cocksucker."

Had she looked up from her plate she could have found Jack's jaw hanging open like a braying donkey, the instant wicked grin on Howard's face, and the abject fury on Forrest's.

Charlie heard the loud bang of the spatula as it hit the griddle and glanced up in time to see Forrest turn to face her and grumble, "If you're gonna dress up like a lady at least pretend to talk like one."

The way he looked at her, the storm in his grey eyes, Charlie caught herself for a moment and realized that once again she had said the most unfeminine thing possible. Glancing to the side she considered his words for a moment and had to agree she should try harder… until she recognized exactly what he had just said. Forrest didn't see her as a lady at all, just some faker in a dress. Her face grew red with anger when the flash of large sapphire eyes went back to his.

"Now you listen here, Forrest Bondurant. That bastard shot me in the gut when I was hardly more than a child. If I want to use strong language to describe that piece of shit, I fucking will." Fuming she reached into her purse and slammed money on the counter. "Keep the goddamn change."

Storming out Forrest went to follow her only to have Howard grab his arm. "Worked up as she is she'll probably take a swing at you. Leave her be…"

The sound of her car's engine led Forrest to press his full lips together and a low growl to sound in his throat.

"Ain't no point bein mad at her. After all, you're the one who just insulted the girl." It was said nonchalantly as Howard dusted some crumbs off the counter then reached for the remainder of Charlie's uneaten sandwich, taking a huge bite.

Straightening Forrest looked askance at his brother with traces of confusion in his typical glower. "What do you mean?" Storm grey eyes looked out the window under lowered brows to watch the dust from her car as it sped down the road.

"Don't you see she's trying real hard to play the part and learn how to behave?" Looking back to his jug he took a long swallow and glowered. "Then your loud mouth basically pointed out how terrible she is at it. I would be mighty surprise if she ever came back, you jackass."

This was not his fault… it was Howard and his mouth. "You're a bad influence on her."

His brother simply grabbed his jar and walked away with a growl. "Pull your head out of your ass, Forrest. She just wants to be herself for a few hours now and then."

Jack steeped forward, "What's she talkin about Al Capone?"

In unison both brothers grumbled, "Shut up, Jack."

* * *

Lying flat on his back in bed that night Forrest contemplated the cracks in his plaster ceiling and felt that familiar unwelcome urge that came to him whenever the golden girl was near. She sure had looked upset as she left, not the tears and trembling lips that woman usually sported when angry… no, she looked just about ready to castrate him.

Sauntering into the station like a breeze, filling the room up with the smell of woman and her infectious laughter. It had been driving him crazy nigh on nine weeks now. She ignored him, he had recognized that from almost the beginning, preferring the coarse language and improper jokes of his older brother. And that bastard just egged her on. On Saturdays his eyes would continuously dart to the clock to see if it was noontime yet, had set a routine so he could set something hot on a plate for her just as she arrived. That way the distraction was handled and he could get back to work… Then she had to go and be late, not only late but sullen… completely lacking enthusiasm as she picked at her food. He'd spent two hours making that damn chicken salad the night before, had to practically hide it from his jackass brothers so they would not eat their mother's famous recipe before she got to try it.

There was some strange obsession he had with watching her sculpted lips as she ate, looking for that scar he knew she had hidden under the red paint on her bottom lip… The way sometimes just the very tips of her mouth would curl up at some random thought that passed through her head. Her talk of the county, of all the things she spent her days discovering made him hometown sound like a foreign land to him. He'd heard her describe three different creeks as if they were all completely unique… was certain from the way her eyes grew languid that she had stood in them bare foot… maybe even bathed when no one was looking.

A grunt passed his throat as he clutched at the quilt and thought again about how soft her hand had been when he foolishly brushed her knuckles and made her uncomfortable all those months ago… that blue dress that he'd seen her wear a couple times now that showed just the hint of the tops of her bosom. She'd been wearing that dress again that afternoon, its pop of color catching his eye when she unbuttoned her stylish city coat and hung it by the door… the same coat she had left behind when she stormed out.

Grumbling to himself he nodded fractionally. In a few days if she had not come back to retrieve it he would take it to town and give it back to her. She'd come get it though, it was starting to get cold. With that final thought Forrest closed his eyes and sleep found him easy.

Charlie never came for the coat and when Wednesday came Forrest called for Jack to watch the station, grabbed the soft green velvet that had been taunting him with its very existence, and hopped in the truck. When he reached the boardinghouse he was glad to see the golden girl's car gone, relived he could just dip inside and leave it with Mrs. Fontanne.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Bondurant." Mrs. Fontanne hook-nosed profile was well known to him as the plump woman looked up from so sewing. "What can I do for you today?"

After quickly clearing his throat and scanning the room he looked her in the eye and grumbled, "Miss Elliot left this down at the station a few days back." The offensive softness of her coat was held out for the woman to take.

"Well, she ain't here." The snappish retort made Forrest narrow his eyes. Chubby fingers waved to the nearby hooks on the wall for him to hang it up. "Ain't seen hide nor hair of that girl since she up and yelled in my face. Rude woman has been gone for days."

His brows drew down further. "She check out?"

"Hardly. She's paid up till the end of the month and all her stuff's still upstairs. Who knows where she went… She won't tell me squat, just comes and goes as she pleases."

The little connections were starting to line up. His tone was superior even though he spoke softly to her. "You been prying into Charlotte's life, Mrs. Fontanne?"

The old biddy's eyes went wide. "There's got to be a reason she turns her nose up at the young men in town. Why she don't work."

"What young men?" He had not meant to ask it but it came out of his lips as he bit down on the toothpick between his teeth.

"For your information, Forrest Bondurant, I have had three of our county's finest bachelors at our table trying to help that poor woman out and she hardly paid them any mind. She must be over twenty five, if she ain't married or looking to marry then something is just plain wrong with her."

Without a word Forrest fisted his hand in the green velvet coat and simply turned and left. Pausing at the porch he looked up to the dusk greying sky and smelled an oncoming storm, moments later the fully loaded trucks of the Grimes boys rushed past, clearly trying to make a county boarder run before the storm set in.

"Damn fools," he muttered under his breath before pulling a cigar out of his pocket. Tossing her coat on the car seat he lit the end of his stogie and filled the cab with the sweet scent of tobacco. He'd have a talk with the Grimes clan next chance he got. Driving like that in the middle of the day round here was bound to get someone hurt.

* * *

"Damn fools!" Charlie shouted into the blasting wind for what must have been the twentieth time. She was soaked to the bone, struggling to move down the dark muddy road. Just before fat raindrops started to fall some jackasses with trucks full of liquor had ran her off the road. With her wheel caught in a muddy ditch she had struggled for neigh on an hour to get the car moving only to slip and sprain her ankle.

The fat wet drops were icy and she had left her coat behind when she stormed out of the station days ago. Once again second guessing her decision to walk back to town she shivered from the chill and hugged her arms to her chest. She had been walking so long and the sky had grown so dark she was not sure she would be able to find her car even if she went back for it. Town could not be more than a few more miles, or even a farm house. Hobbling forward again she pressed through the driving rain and heard the metallic creak of a sign swigging in the driving wind. Across a nearby field a flash of lightning struck a tree, briefly illumining the pitch black just long enough for Charlie to see a building on her left. With renewed purpose she limped forward only to curse again when she found herself staring at the dark windows of none other than Blackwater Station. The boom of thunder that followed the lightening hurried her up the steps where she was about to ask help from the insufferable man who lived inside.

The worn wood of the door clearly need a fresh coat of paint and was rough under her cold knuckles as she knocked hard enough, she hoped, to be heard over the storm.

"Forrest!" her voice was loud but lost in the wind. "Forrest Bondurant!"

About to resign herself to a night sleeping on his porch she hung her head and vigorously rubbed her hands up and down her cold arms, cursing herself again for leaving her coat. When the door swung inward and the bare toes of a man filled her vision Charlie slowly raised her dripping head to find him staring at her in the dark, eyes almost stunned in that scowl he perpetually wore.

"Where the hell have you been, woman?" His typical gruff tone was like music to her ears.

She knew she looked a mess, felt her hair plastered to her skull and dripping wildly. Teeth chattering she gave a saucy answer, "I went for a drive. A rather lon-"

Before she could finish he pushed open the screen door and practically yanked her out of the darkness and into the small pool of light his lantern provided.

Once the door banged shut the silence was deafening. Her breath was coming in short shivery pants as water pooled at her feet. Brushing her hand over her hair, wiping her face as best she could she looked at the man who was clearly avoiding looking back at her and mumbled. "My car was run off the road a few miles back. I have been walking in that storm for…" She just stopped talking, what was the point, not like he was going to answer her.

Awkwardly she stripped off her muddy shoes and left them near the door before leaving him standing there with his superiority and arrogance. She hobbled toward the stove, praying it still had a fire and sighed audibly when its warmth began to press itself to her skin. Soundlessly he moved up beside her, kneeled down to open the front of the stove, and tossed in a fresh log. With the light of the fire he turned his face up, watching her shiver in that soaking wet cotton dress, a dress that was clinging to her body to the point of indecency. He followed the line of her leg up to her hips, her narrow waist, and tried to keep his eyes in his head when the taunt peaks of her hard nipples jutted out from full breasts. Glancing quickly to her face he found what he'd spent weeks secretly searching for. There it was... that hidden scar on display now that the rain had washed the lipstick away. Swallowing thickly Forrest wondered how she had ever managed to pass for a man.

Feeling his blood rush he took a step back to clear his head. Towels, that's what she needed. That thought in mind he climbed the steps and grabbed two spare threadbare towels and hurried back to find her just as he left her, shivering and reaching her hands to the heat.

Clearing his throat he drew her attention and handed her the fabric. "You best be getting out of that dress or-" With his jaw almost open he watched her hands mechanically go to the buttons at her breast without complaint.

Once he saw the top of her lacy slip he realized he'd been staring and quickly turned to give her his back. Listening with his eyes closed to every move she made Forrest wondered what article of clothing she had removed next as each sodden garment landed with a wet plop on the floor. He heard her sigh, it was the familiar sound of her contentment, the same noise she made when she ate his cooking, and knew she was drying herself with the towels… possibly stark naked behind him. Looking down it was impossible to miss the tent in his pajama bottoms and Forrest did not know how he was going to escape before she noticed it.

"Could I borrow something to wear?" Her voice was small, exhausted.

He should not have glanced over his shoulder at the delicate sound but found himself looking at her wrapped in his towel and nothing else, staring up at him with her huge expectant sapphire eyes. His groin tightened and he leveled the intensity of his eyes right at her before giving a grunt and a nod and stupidly just pulled off his night shirt, thrusting it toward her. If the golden girl did not get clothes on right quick he was going to lose it.

Trembling fingers took the fabric with a small smile. Without complaint she pulled it over her head, right before him, and pressed her arms through the sleeves. As the cotton brushed over her face she felt herself engulfed in the scent of the man and his heat. "It's nice and warm," she mumbled. "Thank you."

By the time her head had cleared the neckline all she saw was Forrest move up the stairs and figured she had been dismissed. His night shirt came almost to her knees and hung past her hands covering her suitably. After rolling up the sleeves she used the towel to wipe up the mess she had left on the floor then limped toward the kitchen to wring out her dress in the sink.

"Why you limpin?" She heard a grumble in the dark and gave a start. Hadn't he just gone up the stairs?

"I sprained my ankle trying to get my car out of a ditch," she answered the shadows while wringing as much water out of her clothing as she could.

"You're cold, get back to the fire." Watching her struggle had sobered his foolish lust and once again he had control of the monster in his pants… So long as he did not look at how tempting her body was in his shirt… or think about it… oh hell. Gritting his teeth he moved from the stairs toward the stove and pulled out a chair from a nearby table for her to sit on.

Assuming that was where he intended her to sleep she nodded gratefully and eased down near the warmth. He disappeared again, coming back just as she started to doze and surprised the hell out of her by taking her ankle in his hand. Looking down she found Forrest carefully testing her foot, inspecting the swelling and rolling the ankle until she gave a hiss of pain. The instant the sound left her lips he glanced up in the low firelight and met her eyes. She was watching him with fascination, amazed he was tending her.

"I ain't gonna hurt you." It was the softest he had ever spoken to her, like she was some wild horse that needed calming.

"Of course you won't," she answered with a soft ironic laugh, still shivering. "I never thought you would."

The intensity of his stare as he met her eyes before he blinked a few times and looked back to her foot confused Charlie. Warm strong fingers held her ankle like it was made of glass, wrapping the wound in strips of cloth to minimize swelling. She watched him work, her eyes leisurely counting the scars on his chest, arms, and torso. Over her years it was common for her to see men half or mostly undressed, her company assuming she was male too and thought nothing of it usually. But he looked different than most men. Forrest was nothing but muscle with a light dusting of chest hair and smooth even skin. From the first moment she had seen him she had to admit that he was undeniable handsome, especially those full lips, his body solid and rugged... exactly what a man ought to be.

"I should not be surprised you are good at this. You seem to have a knack for taking care of your fool brothers." Charlie muttered sleepily when he set her foot carefully back on the floor a few minutes later. Tipping her head back she was once again ready to sleep until strong arms slipped under her body, lifting her against his barrel like chest as he set off wordlessly toward the stairs. Instinctively her arms went around his neck clutching at him should he accidentally drop her. "What are you doing!?"

"Putting you to bed." He was staring forward with hard eyes, offering his profile for her close inspection.

It must have been weeks since he shaved, his face scruffy and set in grim determination to see whatever his plan was through. She knew better than to talk to him. He'd only grunt or clear his throat, but she trusted him… hell, she already knew he did not look at her as a woman so there was clearly no safer man to be half naked and mildly wounded with. The realization put a quick in her lip, a quirk he saw just before his foot found the stairs. There was no light on the second floor, no way for her to see where he was taking her but he clearly knew the way in the dark. The sound of a door being pushed open let her know they were in a room. Forrest kneeled and place her on a low mattress. Instantly Charlie recognize that it was still warm, that he had place her in his bed and was even now pulling the quilt over her. He left her then, shuffling around downstairs, until the door opened a few minutes later and he climbed in behind her, laying back to back.

"Ummm, you should…" He grunted something then cleared his throat and gave instruction as if teaching her how to tally accounts, "You should put your hurt foot up on my legs to keep it elevated while you sleep."

Under the warmth of his quilt and the heat radiating from his body she rested her sore ankle on his calf and closed her eyes mumbling one last time, "Thank you, Forrest."

It was sheer torture for him. She was so delicate and soft, her back pressed to his, her legs naked and… Jesus Christ he was rock hard again and could practically feel the blood pulsing in his pecker. Facing the wall and trying to think of anything other than the way she smelled, or how soft the skin of her ankle had been when he ran his fingers secretly over her more than was necessary.

Even with Maggie his body's reaction had not been so strong despite all the redhead's flirting and sultry looks. Now he was like a goddamn adolescent draggin her like a caveman to his bed. What was wrong with him?

"Al Capone really shoot you?" It was a last ditch effort to distract himself.

Charlotte took a deep breath and settled in a little deeper into the mattress. A half-awake, "mmmhmmm," vibrated though her. "Wearing a fancy three piece suit and the shiniest shoes I had ever seen. I was thirteen." He heard her low sarcastic chuckle, "Looks like you've been shot a few times yourself."

He simply grunted and slightly shifted his body, instinctively settling in closer to her shivering.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think. I will be super grateful for reviews.**


	4. Chapter 3

**I am really pleased with the support you have been kind enough to share with me. Thank you for taking the time. Shout out to: marulk, AvalonTheLadyKiller, and mystery guest!**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

When dawn came Forrest found that he had turned in his sleep and was wrapped tightly around the golden girl, every curve of her body tucked into his. His nose and lips were still pressed to her now fluffy hair as he woke, taking in a deep peaceful breath of her. Grey eyes went wide, mortified she would wake up to find him all over her. Moving as if he might set off a land mine Forrest slowly uncurled from around the sleeping woman.

Looking down at her he found that Charlotte was still deep in sleep, her breath coming in gentle waves. There was something intrinsically soft in her features as she slumbered. That wariness was gone, the recognizable tension she carried as she constantly scanned the room missing. Awake she was as cautious as he was, unusually cagey. It was nice to see her natural, nice to see that scar on her lower lip that only he and Howard knew she had hidden under her rouge. His eyes caught on the naked shoulder that had slipped out of his nightshirt in her sleep and with cautions fingers Forrest pulled the fabric up to cover her.

Climbing as quietly as he could from the bed he grabbed a fresh change of clothes from his simple dresser and slunk out the door. After dressing in the bathroom he made his way downstairs to get some work done on his books. The storm had passed and knowing Jack he would be bounding through the back door any minute to make breakfast.

Things did not go as expected. Jack did not come until about twenty minutes passed his normal time and Forrest looked up from his ledger to find a madly grinning and clearly half-awake Howard in tow behind him. From the looks on their faces it was clear Jack had gone back to fetch the eldest brother once he found woman's clothing line drying on the back porch.

"Who you got naked upstairs Forrest?" Howard asked with a sly grin. "I'm quite certain I recognize that dress… Must have taken a goddamn miracle to get her into your bed."

Jack started snorting with laughter. "Good one Howard."

"Lower your goddamn voice before she hears you." Forrest growled as he set down his freshly percolated cup of coffee. "Miss Elliot was run off the road last night, probably by Grimes and his boys, and walked here through the storm. Heard her pounding on my door in the middle of the night half frozen and hurt. She's sleeping upstairs and I swear to god if you wake her up and embarrass her I will wring your fucking necks."

The playful teasing fell immediately from both Howard and Jack's faces.

The eldest Bondurant looked abashed as he asked, "She alright?"

"Sprained ankle's all," Forrest's steady gaze went to Jack.

"Make breakfast, then you two jackasses go find her car and pull it out of the ditch it's stuck in." As he spoke he looked from one to the other making it clear they best move their asses. It was going to be a busy day and there would be no time for messing around.

Howard took to sucking down all the remaining coffee in an attempt to sober up and in no time flat the men broke their fast and Howard and Jack set off.

Pouring over his ledgers Forrest powered through his work as the hours passed wondering just what the hell was taking his brothers so long. When the hour approached 9:00 AM he decided that she must be waking soon and would need to eat. Setting his books aside he moved to the kitchen and made her breakfast, situating it on a tray before pursing his lips around the toothpick he'd been chewing on as he poured boiling water into a mug and dropped in one of the special teabags he had purchased at the general store a few days prior.

Tray in hand he climbed the steps pushing open his bedroom door to find her still sleeping. She had rolled over and was sprawled on her belly with her nose pressed to his pillow and one arm reaching to where his body had been.

Clearing his throat Forrest tried to wake her, "Miss Elliot."

Her natural reaction was to press her face into the pillow and groan. Clearly not ready to wake he was about to take the tray and leave when he heard her mumble, "For god sake Forrest would you please start calling me Charlie?"

He grunted and watched her turn over and peek up at him, hair free of the forced finger wave all the women wore, wild around her face down past her chin, untamed and soft. "Ummm." He bent down to set the tray on the bed. "Thought you might be hungry."

Sleepy eyes started to sharpen and with a grin Charlie looked down at the food and sat up. The man had brought her breakfast in bed. She was about to reach for it before she paused and looked up at the looming presence. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather I ate downstairs? I don't want to get crumbs in your bed."

"S'alright." He turned to go and spoke to the wall. "Your dress ain't dry yet and Jack and Howard will be here any minute with your car. It's best you stay up here in the meantime."

He'd brought her food and spoke two sentenced together at her. "Much obliged." She took a bite swallowing quickly to ask, "Forrest?"

Pausing at the door he grunted and threw her a glance.

Unsure how to ask she chewed her bottom lip for a moment then just spit it out. "Is there any way I could copy down a few of your recipes… not any Bondurant family secrets mind you, just the simple ones? I want to learn… and I like your cooking."

He looked at her for a heartbeat answering in a low mutter she couldn't hear as he shifted toward the door. Charlie was about to ask him to repeat himself but the door was already closed. It was then she noticed the hot cup of tea and grinned. That, she was certain, was a Forrest Bondurant form of an apology.

The food was divine, flapjacks covered in butter and syrup… once she had all but licked the plate clean her eyes grew heavy as she scanned the lackluster space Forrest chose to live in. The walls were covered with newspaper. A common enough form of insulation for the poor but Charlie knew he made plenty of money bootlegging. His mattress was on the floor with no bed frame, there was one worn dresser, a small side table, and spindle chair… nothing else but a shotgun hanging on the wall. The room was downright spartan. For such a complicated man it did not seem good enough.

Eyes back to the food she chewed the flapjacks as she thought of the strange middle brother. Clearly he thought little of his own creature comforts, probably too busy seeing to everyone else's with Howard usually too drunk to tell his ass from a hole in the ground and young Jack eager and willing but with his head in the clouds. She knew what it was like carrying the burden of caring for family. With that thought in her head she shut her eyes, humming at the comfortable feeling of a full belly and the sweetness of syrup on her tongue and fell right back to sleep.

When she woke hours later the tray was gone and her small suitcase was lying next to the bed. After pulling on a dress Charlie went in search of the bathroom. The first door she tried revealed a very quaint spare room with nice furniture and a real bed. Scowling she wondered why on earth Forrest had not put her in there and speculated that maybe he thought it was too nice for her or didn't trust her alone in his house at night. Dismissing the thought she just shrugged it off and tried the next door, finding the bathroom successfully. She ducked inside and looked at her reflection, rolling her eyes. Charlie tried her best to fix her wild hair, smoothing it until soft waves formed, and applied a touch of rouge to cover her scar. After rinsing her face and brushing her teeth she hobbled to the top of the steps with her luggage and moved one step at a time down toward the noise of the late lunch crowd.

As she was making her way the last few steps the loud sound of footsteps approached her and looking up from her grip on the side rail she found an irate Forrest barreling down on her, snatching her suitcase out of her hand. "You crazy woman? You will break your neck going down the stairs with a bum foot and a heavy bag."

Charlie simply raised a brow at his reprimand. "I appreciate the help but I am not a child Forrest. I've had far worse than a twisted ankle. I can manage just fine."

Though it was the same low tone there was a snap to his words, an edge of irritated sarcasm. "Miss Charlotte, if you could manage just fine you would not have been bangin on my door last night."

The room had gone quiet, all the patrons' eyes on her after his vaguely suggestive statement. Forrest watched as the slow spread of a blush colored her face, grey eyes lingering on her red lips. Now that he'd managed to get her to shut her mouth he slid an arm around her waist and helped her right back to the same chair from the night before, siting her near the fire. Another chair was unceremoniously yanked forward and set down with a thud before Forrest gestured for her to prop up her ankle.

When Jack finally came through the door, it was the only thing that had shifted his disapproving gaze from her pinkened cheeks. Before Jack could open his fool mouth Forrest grunted, "Watch the station," then went right out the door, letting the screen bang shut behind him.

Charlie had no idea what the hell was going on, looking to Jack she found him approaching with a sorry smile. "Howard and I found your car. The front axil got busted when you ran into the ditch."

Truth be told it took Jack and Howard awhile to find the car as it was nigh on seven miles up the road and after the storm the wheels were sunk badly in the mud. They had managed to get it to the station, towing it with the truck, but it was not going anywhere until repaired.

"What is it with my cars falling apart every time I am near Blackwater Station?" She mumbled under her breath before looking back at the soft gentle smile on Jack's boyish face.

"Maybe it's god's way of putting ya where you need to be," he answered lighthearted back trying to cheer her up.

After a wry grin she asked, "Do you know a mechanic who can fix it?"

"I can fix it for you Ma'am but it will take me a few days. Tell then I'm afraid you'll have to walk." He stupidly looked down at her ankle, "Uhhh, I mean… well."

Charlie gave out a low laugh, "I catch your meaning Jack."

"When my brothers get back I'll drive you home," he offered with his same good natured eagerness.

So she was trapped at the station… the idea was not appealing.

"If you like," Jack reached into his back pocket and pulled out a book. "Bertha gave me this, it's a good story. You can read it while you rest up." He pressed a worn copy of _The Great Gatsby_ into her fingers and then walked over to help the men who just walked through the door.

It was late afternoon and the station was empty before she knew it, so caught up in the book she hardly paid any attention to what was going on around her. The woman in the story who seemed so charming at first was growing more and more vexing as Charlie read on. The character was indecisive and spineless while the perfect man… a man who could never really exist, offered her the stars though his background was meager.

Almost annoyed she turned the page and felt a poke as meaty fingers tapped her shoulder. Looking up she found a group of men, faces black and blue and all a little bloody, standing before the Bondurant brothers with their hats off and eyes downcast.

"Excuse me Miss Elliot but me and my boys here would like to apologize." The eldest of the group, his lip swollen as his backwoods accent butchered the words.

Her brows came down in confusion as she looked past the strangers to first Howard, who looked like a disheveled pit bull, then to Forrest; those grey eyes were burning as he watched her reaction before she looked back to the men.

"You see Miss we didn't mean to run you off the road. It was an accident. But uhhh," He swallowed and clearly did not want to finish the statement, "we'll pay to fix your car."

She didn't want to laugh at them, lifted a hand to cover the quirk of her lips for a second before she could compose herself. After closing her eyes for a moment as if pained she got herself together and organized her face into stillness. "That's very gentlemanly of you Mr.?"

"Grimes Ma'am."

"Mr. Grimes." Charlie stood up from her chair and offered a hand. When the man took it in his dirty paw she squeezed tightly, crushing the swelling in his fingers from the fist fight no doubt between him and the Bondurant boys. "I have the distinct impression that if Howard and Forrest here had not kindly informed you of my situation you would never have taken the time to find out just who you nearly killed last night." The man began to groan as she clutched his paw even harder, watching him grimace and try to take back his hand from her surprisingly strong crushing grip. Charlie's voice grew low and deadly. "Damn straight you'll pay to fix my car." She pumped their hands in the mockery of a handshake and dropped his greasy palm. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

She stood larger than life as the Grimes men all stared at her, some shocked at her gumption, some abashed.

"Alright, now get." Forrest ordered waving toward the door with his hat.

The smallest of the Grimes boys turned to him, "But we ain't got our truck."

Forrest's drawl was direct, "You can walk just like she did." Broad shoulders tensed with muscle, arms flexing his hand fisted at his side. He ran his momentous glare over each man he'd just beaten, daring one of them to so much as complain.

The four men grumbled to themselves, each limping as they wandered out the door. When the screen door shut Forrest looked back to Charlotte only to find her biting her lips together and trying hard not to chuckle. She did not make it more than a few seconds before she outright laughed, slapping her thigh and looking to the heavens.

"Well…" She tried to stop laughing for a moment before she looked to Howard and Forrest. "Was that Franklin justice?"

"Yeah." Forrest grumbled only to see her laugh even harder.

"And you all wonder why I like it here so much…" She said to herself before shuffling off toward the kitchen. Without asking she carefully maneuvered behind the bar, grabbed two clean towels and soaked them in cool water. Hiding her limp as best she could she walked up to the dumb struck brothers and started with Howard, wiping the blood and dirt from his face before cleaning his hands. When it was done she muttered under her breath that it was probably the nearest thing he'd had to a bath in weeks only to see him grin.

Stepping in front of a man who looked like he either wanted to run from her and her towel or bark at her she proclaimed, "I'm not really sure if I should be honored that you two did what you did or angry that you think you need to fight my battles for me." As she spoke she reached up, wiping the sweat from Forrest's forehead, preventing him from glaring at her though she knew he wanted to. He kept his eyes closed as the towel ran over his jaw and neck, cleaning off the trace blood spatter. "Give me your hands," she ordered running the cool cloth over the mild swelling and rust color that had stained into his skin.

When it was finished she reached into his cardigan's side pocket as if it were nothing and drew out the still slightly bloody brass knuckles, cleaning them properly before putting them back. The look on his face at what she had done was priceless. Forrest made that low throat noise, face growing uncomfortable and stepped back from her, looking down at the now soiled towels. She was already hobbling away, clearly heading to the washroom to clean the cloth before it stained, still chuckling under her breath.

Jack was the first to speak, "Not really the reaction I was expecting."

Howard saw her skirt disappear behind the closed door and could do nothing but reach for the jar that thankfully had not shattered in his pocket when he beat the shit out of those men. "Yup."

Forrest just walked over to the bar to give his brothers instructions when another group of men came in. The party of five went straight to a table, sitting down as Jack rushed forward, face serious as he reached out a hand to the thin man with the long face and sagging hollow cheeks. "Good evening Mr. Walsh, wasn't expecting you for four hours yet."

The three piece suits had been enough for Forrest to slowly reach for the shotgun under the bar before he heard his younger brother speak up and greet the group. His eyes scanned each man, could see all were packing and looked to Howard, please to see his older brother had already taken the stance of enforcer. Floyd Banner's men were several hours early for the pickup... and Forrest did not trust the Chicago set one tick.

"Nice to see ya Jack," Gummy Walsh said as they shook hands, looking with little concern from Forrest to Howard. "Made better time on the roads from Richmond than expected. Figured we'd show up early and get our order then be on our way back to Chicago."

Forrest crossed around the bar, the shotgun resting in the crook of his arm. "Did you now?"

"We ain't met before. You's the one who had his throat cut." Gummy nodded holding out his hand speaking with his greasy Chicago accent. "Got quite a reputation Forrest Bondurant."

Forrest took the thin fingers in his own, offering no smile to match the grin on Gummy Walsh's face. Every part of his body language was one of warning, menace.

"Mr. Banner's been mighty pleased with what you offer, sent me down personal to shake your hand." Though he was acting friendly the Chicago men were known to be double-crossers all of them.

Forrest's voice grew real low as he took a step closer, making it clear whatever Gummy Walsh was up to he wasn't biting. "You think you can just waltz in here when you want, that how you do business now?"

"This is just a friendly exchange… a mutually beneficial opportunity." The weasel continued reaching into his coat to for the bundles of cash thinking that would win the man over.

It did not. "Put that away."

Narrowing his eyes Forrest pulled a cigar from his pocket and began to chew the end, "Jack." Forrest said the name low but his brother stepped forward. "Explain to your business associate that we do not make large sales of our product for transport when the sun is up."

"Mr. Walsh," Jack offered stoic but determined. "We can't have trucks running through town when women and children are still about. You will have to wait until nightfall."

Gummy spread his hands with a dumb friendly grin, "Then we wait. I'm sure we can, ah, amuse ourselves in the meantime."

He took a seat at the table with the rest of the Chicago outfit and quickly lit a cigarette. The men seemed content to rest a bit and take a breather, filling the air with a mixture of different tobacco smoke. When Charlie reappeared Forrest noticed at once that her eyes covertly scanned the men sitting at the table by the door before she met his gaze with an amused sparkle… she knew who they were and knew there was no sense in her being there.

"Jack," Forrest called his younger brother over and muttered, "Give Miss Charlotte your car keys."

She went to gather her things. The youngest Bondurant stepped forward and swept up her suitcase with a gentlemanly smile setting off to the door to put it in the car instead of offering an arm to help her manage her ankle. He was a sweet man but lacked the best sense. As if they were one mind she glanced at Forrest and Howard and could see they shared the opinion. She knew neither of them could budge from where they stood and gave a friendly nod goodbye. It was necessary to walk passed the men to reach the door and as she moved by one of them reached out and gave her a playful swat on the rear.

Like lightening she turned at the grinning buffoon, backhanding him before either of the Bondurants could step in. When her lips pulled back over her teeth she snarled, "It ain't nice to be slapped by a stranger is it?"

The Chicago outfit burst out laughing at the red faced man. Incensed, he stood quickly from his chair preparing to take a swing at her for humiliating him but before he could do more the draw back his fist Charlie darted a ferocious jab right at his throat. Buckled over and gasping he could not stop her when she kneed him right in the groin. All the men at the table stood, chairs squeaking against the wood floor to watch in shock as the attractive blonde had their cohort on the ground in two seconds flat.

Laying at her feet that gangster automatically reached for a gun in his pocket. She was on him in an instant, straddling his chest as she snatched the gun and head-butted the jackass, knocking him out cold. An instant later a powerful arm came around her waist and she was yanked back against a hard chest. Snarling and legs swinging in the air she prepared to kick at the man holding her until she heard his voice.

"Calm down now spitfire," it was Forrest talking in her ear hushin her as he took the gun she had firmly in her grip and handed it to Howard before she shot someone in temper.

Legs still dangling in the air she stopped struggling, panting and furious, and let her blazing eyes fall over the men. Gummy Walsh looked almost stricken.

Forrest spoke over the sound of her heavy breathing, "I think it's time you all packed up and took that sorry sack of shit with ya. There won't be no business today."

"Mr. Bondurant," Gummy implored with his hat in his hand. "I'm sure we can work something out."

"You think your men can harass our woman and then shake hands. Best be on your way or I'll let her go and see what she does to the rest of you." It was the hardest Charlie had ever heard Forrest speak.

The group started to shuffle toward the door, Gummy reaching for the fallen man's gun from Howard.

"Gummy Walsh," Charlie's voice growled low and dangerous, "That gun is mine now. If Floyd Banner wants it back you tell him to see me personally."

Unwilling to fuck up the transaction any more than he already had the gangster nodded and yelled at his goons to drag the unconscious man out the door.

"One more thing." Now there was dark humor in her voice. "Pass Floyd a message from me." Her dangerous smile only grew, sapphire eyes glittering with mischief "Tell him I said CAW."

With his hat in his hand Gummy turned to look at her. "Caw?"

"You heard me."

The arm around her tightened, silently commanding that she shut her mouth before Forrest spoke, "Howard, see that our friends here get on their way."

Jack had returned after hearing the commotion inside and watched his contacts leave while dragging out the body of one the younger men. "Jack, go with Howard."

When the door shut with a resounding bang Charlie's eyes were boring a hole through the wood. It took her a minute to realize she was still hanging, uncomfortably at that, against the chest of Forrest Bondurant. "Feel free to put me down anytime," her growl was almost animal in nature.

Her body slid real slow down the front of his until her toes touched the cool wooden floor. She moved to step away but he still kept that vice like arm firm around her middle. When he wouldn't budge she tossed her head back to look over her shoulder and warned him with her eyes that he better let go. His expression was just as stormy as hers, grey eyes flashing with energy as they looked over her face. "You're hurt."

"I am not hurt." She snorted… the other man was hurt. He'd be sitting funny for a week. The thought made her chuckle to herself.

With an annoyed snort Forrest hoisted her up again and walked to a nearby undisturbed table, letting her go only to turn her and set her to sit on the table edge. Placing his hands on either side of her body he leaned forward and gave her that blazing irate glare.

"What the hell is wrong with you woman? You got any idea how dangerous those men are?" He had just fractionally raised his voice from his normal tone and it was just enough to be downright menacing. He saw her about to open her mouth, clearly read to spit out something nasty but cut her off. "Say one goddamn word and I will make you regret it."

Standing up to him she met his quite tone with a louder one of her own. "You don't frighten me Forrest Bondurant even with your dangerous reputation and scathing looks. That man had it coming."

Clenching his jaw to keep from raising his voice he gritted out, "You got any idea what men like that would do to a pretty thing like you if you catch their eye?"

"Yes I do," her expression made it clear she knew exactly what men like that were capable of. "Which is why he needed a beating. It's the principle of the matter. I didn't shoot him and we both know I could have. Your precious business deal with Banner will be unaffected and that jackass will know better than to touch me or another woman around here again."

She did not think it was possible for him to look angrier, she was wrong. "You think I give a shit about the money?"

"Then why the hell are you hollering at me?" Charlie snarled right in his face.

He lifted a hand and wiped his fingers across her forehead holding them out so she could see the blood smeared all over his hand, "This is why. This is why Charlotte! You're fucking bleeding all over yourself."

She looked confused then realized that warm liquid had been running down the side of her face. Raising a brow she looked down at the top of her dress to see it had dripped past her neck and stained the fabric above her breasts. "I don't even feel it…"

Forrest practically roared, bringing his face so close she could smell the warm scent of him, the leather and tobacco as his full lipped mouth spoke in a voice so low that she had to follow the movement of his lips to understand. "You dress like a man and catch one high profile criminal and you think you are so goddamn hard?"

She could hardly believe her ears. Growing before him she straightened her spine and let her eyes hold his with power of her own, leaning aggressively forward she snarled hostilely, "You think he was the first? There have been at least two dozen; he was just the most important. I was eight years old when that bastard cut up my mamma's face, killed my twin brother right in front of us and would have killed me too if he knew I was hiding under the bed. My mamma was never right in the head again, needed constant care. He took all our money… there are no jobs for little girls that would have paid enough to support my ruined mamma and me… Dressing in my dead brothers clothes I took his job, worked with some of the most ungodly men around. At seventeen I started bounty hunting, knowing where the evil men liked to play, who they knew, where they fucked… after watching them my whole life. And that man you saw me with last winter… Ronnie Pearson _the Slasher himself_… the one I sat and watched fry on old sparky with a smile… I tracked him for two years once I got wind of where he might be; hunted him down like a dog, made his life hell all the way to the electric chair. That man… he was my father Forrest. So yeah, I think I'm pretty goddamn hard."

The look on his face as she told her tale made her sneer, if he found her unacceptable before he sure as hell must have thought her repulsive now. Smirking at his expression caused something foreign and absolutely mortifyingly warm to slide down her cheeks. With utter confusion Charlie reached up to wiped her face and stared down in horror at wetness on her fingertips before muttering to herself as if appalled, "Oh my god," and shoved Forrest way with all her strength before scurrying off the table and using her skirt to wipe off the silent tears as quick as could be.

She had not realized how wretched her voice had been under the anger, how lonely and desperate she had sounded. Howard and Jack had been in the room, having come in after Banner's men drove off… each having heard every word of her tirade. She looked up to find them watching her from the door, their faces just as disturbed as Forrest's had been, recognized that Jack now knew who she was.

"You two go on home now." Forrest ordered with authority, his boot steps sounding behind her as he approached. They left at once, almost tripping over one another to rush out.

The silent tears were a short lived moment of weakness and now the resolute woman was back in place. "I need to get back to the boardinghouse." Her voice was steady, the same tenor she used when speaking like a man.

He was not touching but he was close enough behind her that she could feel the heat of his body. "You ain't going nowhere till your wound gets tended."

"I can do it myself."

"Sit down Charlotte." It was that same commanding tone he used on his brothers, the one that made it clear she better behave.

Looking over at the resolute set of Forrest's shoulders she decided to just get it over with so she could leave. Moving past him she walked back toward the table and pulled herself up, watching as he crossed to the kitchen only to come back with a small first aid kit and a wet towel a moment later.

She reached for the wet fabric to wipe her face clean only to have him fist it and hold on tight when she gave it a yank. Dropping it with an irritated expression she closed her eyes and waited. The brush of the cloth against her skin was cool and light as he made a few slow passes. He started at her forehead and followed the thin path of blood trickle down the side of her face, neck, and all the way to where the crimson had stained the top of her dress. Sweeping up again he followed the same course. When the blood was clean a fresh corner of the towel passed under her eyes.

"I stop coddling me, I'm not Jack for Christ sake." she growled at his over gentle treatment.

Grumbling under his breath he answered, "No you ain't. If you was Jack I would have slapped you twenty minutes ago."

She could not help but laugh just a little. Peeking out of one eye she found his face as grim and stoic as ever… he was not joking. She chuckled a little harder. "You ever try to slap me Mr. Bondurant I think it's safe to say it won't end pretty for either of us."

For just a fraction of a second she thought she saw a small tick at the corner of his full gorgeous lips as he concentrated on the tiny wound in her hairline. When he was satisfied with what he found he unscrewed a vile of iodine and went to drip some on the cut, pausing for a moment to grunt, "uhhh, it's gonna hurt."

Charlie rolled her eyes. Sarcasm thick in her voice she mocked, "Is this where you offer to hold my hand?"

Those grey eyes went down to the hostile sapphire blue, staring long and hard at her expression before he raised up his free hand and held it out before her. Looking down at the offering, unsure if he was mocking her, she glanced up again only to find him still waiting. After a deep breath through her nose she took the damn thing and pressed her palm to his, setting their joined hands on her lap and braced for what was sure to be a mighty sting. Watching his every move she noticed Forrest's attention went back to the small cut and moments later the iodine drops were sizzling away at her skin. She did not flinch or bat an eyelash, simply stared at the man who held still, looking at something on the far wall as he held her hand until the heat passed… knowing from experience exactly how long the sting would last.

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**I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. Please review.**


	5. Chapter 4

**To those who take the time to kindly review... I LOVE YOU: AvalonTheLadyKiller and** **twilightsfirstrose  
**

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**Chapter 4**

They had not spoken once she let go of his hand and pulled her coat over her stained dress. The car ride was equally silent though he did wait to make sure she was inside the boardinghouse before driving off. The utterly annoying Mrs. Fontanne had given her a world of grief when she had come in at dinner after Forrest dropped her off. She had fixed her hair and changed into a new dress but still looked as if she'd been running wild in the woods as she limped to the table.

That had been several days ago, days Charlie had spent far from Franklin. She missed her usual Saturday lunch at the Station and spent it instead strolling through gardens in Fairfax County. With the autumn Virginia was a palette of gold and reds, the trees beautiful and soothing. Walking through the woods near the Potomac River she could not help but miss the hills of Franklin and after five days took a train back to Rocky Mount.

Coming down from her room the next morning she'd discovered Jack had left a note claiming her car was fixed and that he would pick her up at 11:30 the following day to take her to it. Taking the pins from her hair in the morning light she styled the finger waves and applied her cosmetics with care. If she had to face the Bondurants to get her car she would do it looking like a woman and not like the monster they all must think she was.

A soft silk dress was laying on the bed, its lavender fabric her favorite. The thought that she had a favorite dress made her chuckle to herself. She had not even really owned a dress until about six months ago. After her daddy was good and dead she made a decision that it was time to start over. His bounty alone would see her through for decades if she was reasonable. It took some time for her man's haircut to grow long enough for her to start to learn how to appear feminine. Had to have the attendants at the dress shops choose everything for her while she fumbled with the art of woman's underclothes and horribly uncomfortable shoes.

She'd embraced femininity as much as she could since then, studied magazines and the women she found looked pretty around her to mimic behavior and styles… though she had never quite managed to figure out how to paint her right hand's fingernails without making a damn mess and gave up on trying again that day. With five minutes to spare she slipped on the fashionable silk, checked her lipstick while pulling on her coat and went out the door. The boy was right on time.

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Forrest glanced at the clock as he chewed the toothpick between his teeth.

"You can stop checking the clock every two minutes Forrest," Howard grumbled into his jar. "She has to come back for her car one way or another."

The dangerous glare he shot his brother only made Howard chuckle and taunt, "Maybe you'll get lucky and the damn thing will break down a second time and she'll have to come back again. Want me to go pull a few wires?"

"Shut your goddamn mouth Howard." He loved his brother but sometimes the drunk asshole just did not know when to quit. Moody he looked back to the grill and put a little seasoning on the steaks he had just finished cooking, letting them rest and grow juicy.

Five minutes later grey eyes darted back to the wall clock just as the sounds of Jack's car sounded outside the station. Hunched over the grill he darted quick glances to the side to see her climb from the blue car she had left there ten months ago. Even through the window and with the distance between them he could see she was nervous, her hands fidgeting a little with the buttons of her coat.

Jack was at her side filling her ears with an endless stream of babble that she cautiously smiled at and nodded while they made their way into the building. His baby brother held the door and she walked in, the golden girl glowing, hair styled and comely mouth painted red to hide that scar. Forrest had turned to face them his eyes taking in all her movements as Jack took her coat and hung it by the door. She wasn't dressed in one of the typical cotton dresses she usually wore. Whatever this was the fabric whispered around her, nipped in at all the right places and showing just a hint of cleavage. Forrest thanked god for the bar between them and the stiff apron when he felt himself twitch in his britches at the sight of her.

"Well don't you look pretty Miss Charlie," Howard gave her a low whistle watching as the corner of her mouth ticked up.

"Good afternoon Howard, looks like you're soused again before noon," Charlie answered back with a wry grin.

"All it takes is dedication." Howard winked his bloodshot eye. "Take a seat and I'll buy you a drink."

Sapphire eyes left his face and moved to find the leader of the pack standing silent as he set a plate on the bar at her usual seat. Glancing down at the steak and scalloped potatoes with her brows drawn low she looked at the cook, and blue eyes locked on grey.

Shifting his weight between his feet Forrest cleared his throat, pursed his lips around the tooth pick and grumbled, "You don't like steak?"

"Uhhh," She took a step nearer surprised by his behavior. "You made me lunch?"

His only answer was a grunt followed by setting a cup of hot tea next to the plate. Taking the seat she watched as three more plates were set out on the bar and all the brothers, even Forrest sat down to eat. The first bite made all the tightness around her eyes just fall away as she stared forward and chewed with a soft hum. It was moist tender bliss and she ate it with an unshakeable pleased smile

"Who taught you to throw a punch like that?" Howard asked, breaking the silence.

"Leave her be Howard," Forrest growled turning the full strength of his glare at his stupidly grinning brother.

After swallowing some scalloped potatoes Charlie sipped her tea and looked the troublemaker in the eye. "Since I was smaller than the rest of the boys I got beat on a lot… my boss got tired of seeing me black and blue and took the time to point out the way to tackle a larger opponent. How to, I don't know, fight dirty I guess."

"Who'd you work for?" Jack asked with a disbelieving grin smeared across his face

Forrest grumbled. "Stop prying into Charlotte's life."

It stuck her then that Forrest had been calling her Charlotte since the night she'd begged for shelter. Turning her chin his direction she looked at him as he ate, realized he was in the seat next to her and used his first name to see his reaction. "The steak is very good Forrest, thank you."

"Though you might be hungry is all." He darted a glance at her then finished his lunch and coffee in record time and got up, moving back behind the bar and disappearing in the little supply room to the side.

"Where you been all week," Jack said around a mouthful of steak.

Finishing the last bite Charlie turned toward the brothers and smiled with a sparkle in her sapphire eyes. "I had an urge to see Mt. Vernon."

"What's that?" Howard asked following with a belch. "Ain't no mountains round here with that name."

"It's was the homestead of George Washington… Started out as a four room farm house and was added to over the years to become this breathtaking mansion overlooking the Potomac. It's real pretty now with the autumn foliage glowing all fiery around it"

Howard just rolled his eyes, "Did you get to sit and look at it?"

In an effort to make the eldest Bondurant uncomfortable she leered and leaned toward him. "The man who manages it now, Mr. Charles Wall, gave me a tour and told me about the romance between George and Martha… really story book stuff… most likely made up to amuse me; but it was a real fine house."

"Looking to be moving into a mansion of your own?" He teased back, running a hand through his messy mop of hair

"I never have the chance to stay in one place long enough to have a real house." Leaning back in her seat she pursed her lips as if up to no good. "But if I could… My taste would run toward something by the water with big windows and a lot of light."

Howard had a look in his eye but said nothing, just took a chug of moonshine.

Before Charlie could continue a small recipe card box was plopped down on the bar in front of her along with a notepad and pen so suddenly she jumped a little in her seat. Forrest stood in front of her and as if to answer her questioning gaze pushed the box a little closer before taking her cleared plate away.

"Those mamma's recipes?" Jack asked leaning closer and flipping the lid of the box open. "Well I'll be damned, haven't seen those in years." The magnitude of the grin he leveled at Charlie made it impossible not to smile back. "She used to make the best peach cobbler. It was just out of this world, almost as good as the one Bertha makes." He blushed a touch, "Ah… don't tell her I said that."

"That's probably light years beyond anything I could make," Charlie snickered at the boy as she peeked into the box. "I can hardly fry an egg."

"How did you eat before?" Jack asked.

"Well, most places I lodged in fed me and I'm really good at opening a can. Bread and butter were also my specialty." She spoke the truth aware it sounded awful but could not help but laugh with Howard. Pausing for a minute she added absently as she read a card, "Truth be told I spent so much time in the woods I learned how to cook over a fire pretty well… you know, squirrel, rabbit, venison… but that's just a matter of turning a stick."

"Good thing Forrest here could cook for you then," Howard took a long swig belching loudly once it cleared his gullet.

Offhandedly she was reading the instructions for meatloaf and answered, "Yeah, good thing."

She dove right in and began studying the cards, taking detailed notes as she scribbled out the recipes and occasionally heard Forrest grunt something like, "Takes three minutes longer than the card says," or "You can skip that step."

She'd been at it so long Howard was working on his second jar and her hand was starting to cramp when the sound of cars driving in shifted everything in the air. The screen door swung open and the Bondurant boys went into position but Charlie was completely oblivious to the instant wariness of the men around her. Forrest had moved around the bar to halt at her back, blocking her from view, and Howard was standing tall, the attack dog ready to bite with Jack holding the shotgun in the crook of his arm.

The screen shut and a long puff off a cigarette smoke filled the silence before he spoke, "I heard some crazy broad knocked the daylights out of one of my men. She around?"

Charlie set down her pencil and a genuine smile spread across her face. She would know that voice anywhere. Looking at the mirror that hung above the grill her eyes locked on his squinted blue eyes. It was then she saw the viciousness in the set of Forrest's shoulders and realized they were ready to react to what was clearly not a threat. Chuckling lowly Charlie narrowed her eyes as she turned in her seat. She placed a hand on Forrest's spine, feeling his muscles jump at the unexpected touch as she tried to signal everything was fine.

"That depends Floyd?" Charlie answered playfully peaking around the broad wall of man in front of her. "What do you want with her?"

Mad Dog Floyd Banner just gave his infamous grin, took a breath of smoke from the cigarette dangling between his lips and waited for her to come to him. Quickly slipping around Forrest before he could catch her she did just that. It was only moments before Charlie was standing before the well-dressed gangster with a smile, clearly pleased he was there.

"My god…" Floyd's hands came up slowly and touched the tips of her hair, fluffing them a little as his eyes ran all over her face. "I never thought I'd see the day." He took her chin and turned her head side to side, his blue eyes sparkling down at her under the brim of his hat. "You grew up into a fine woman Blackbird."

She always liked the way he spoke, a little nasal and smart, the way she imagined a true shifty villain from the silent pictures she'd seen a few times as a kid. Between the thin mustache and the charm it was not far off. He was still larger than life, a true kingpin, an incredibly dangerous man, and one of Chicago's most notorious gangsters.

Smirking she answered cheekily, "I'm sure there are many who would disagree." She offered her cheek for him to kiss and he did dutifully.

Forrest was practically growling as he watched the exchange, measuring each word and look between the two.

"What do you mean, this can't be Blackbird?" The extremely handsome man at Floyd's side raised an eyebrow and gave her a charming smile as he too stepped closer to take a good look. "You have got to be pullin my leg. Blackbird was a dame…?" He could hardly believe the stunning blonde could be the filthy boy he had beaten up more than once.

"It's been a long time Tommy." Her voice was decidedly less friendly but she held out a hand anyway. The he took it and pressed his sculpted lips to her knuckles before his boss gave him a long glance.

Reaching into his coat Floyd pulled out what looked like a small velvet ring box and handed it over to Charlie as she grinned and pulled at the bow. After peeking inside she gave him a daring wink and stated, "Just what every girl wants." Setting it on the nearby table she continued. "Does this mean I don't have to be looking over my shoulder?"

"That's what it means." Floyd nodded his eyes a little evil as he made is point clear between them. After a breath he looked toward the glowering mass of Forrest Bondurant. Floyd left her there and crossed toward the man he came to see. Lifting his hand in offer of a handshake the suave gangster waited until Forrest gripped the hand then spoke like a politician, "I hope we can get past what happened the other night. Misunderstanding with the time and all… I have taken personal care of the other problem Forrest and came prepared to take the four hundred gallons off your hands. I'll even throw in a bonus as compensation for the… odd timing."

"You a friend of that woman?" Forrest growled before releasing his hand.

Floyd answered with the suave Chicago accent darting a glance back to her, "More like family."

Charlie snorted then went right back to the bar to continue writing down recipes as the men ironed out the details of their new arrangement and the trucks outside were loaded by the five men Mr. Banner brought as muscle.

Around twenty minutes later Floyd leaned on the bar next to her, taking the pencil from her hands and setting it down. "What the hell are you doing in this backwater town?" Floyd was not ready to end the little reunion then glanced past her and looked Forrest in the eye, "No offence."

"My car broke down and I came to find that I like it here…" She added for effect as she turned in her stool to face the man she had a soft spot for. "It's nice and quiet."

He glanced toward the steady stare of the head of the Bondurant family, fully aware Forrest was uncomfortable with how close he stood to his Blackbird before asking her. "How is your mother?"

Charlie just shook her head in the negative, saying nothing but imply much.

"Why don't you come back to Chicago with us? Martha would be over the moon to see you. I'm sure I know a nice young man or two who can make an honest woman out of you if you're ready to settle down."

"You don't know any nice men," Charlie began to laugh the saw the false wounded look Tommy was giving her from across the room.

Those familiar fingers were back at the tips of her hair, the same fingers that first taught her how to load a gun. "Next Thursday night, dinner with the family at the Drake."

Setting her elbow on the bar she leaned her head into her palm and gave him a little smirk. "That depends. You gonna try to kill me again?"

"A man makes one mistake and you won't let him live it down…" He teased back playfully in his subtle Chicago singsong.

She really did want to see Martha. "What time is dinner?"

He grinned and she could see the wheels in his mind spinning. "7:00 PM Blackbird."

That made her laugh. "For crying out loud, keep all that Blackbird nonsense to yourself. Call me Charlotte Elliot for Christ sake."

"Watch that mouth girl," he corrected, his eyes narrowing slightly as his tone dropped in warning.

"I learned all the choicest words from you," Charlie answered before kissing his cheek and picking up her pencil, aware of the amused gleam in his sharp blue eyes before he stood tall.

The fine fedora went from his fingers to a jaunty angle on his head as he moved toward the door. "Good evening gentleman, been a pleasure doing business with you. Take care of my Lottie now."

The door closed and Charlie watched out the window as the cars drove away frowning a little as she tapped her chin with the pencil tip. The youngest Bondurant crowed, "I'll be damned." Jack came over with her little present opening it up to see just what Floyd Banner brought her. He gave a yelped curse, dropping the box and spilling the contents on the counter. Five bloody and ruined human teeth chattered against the wood like dice. "Why the hell did Floyd Banner give you teeth?"

Her attention was back in the present and her eyes locked on the youngest Bondurant as he poked at a half crushed molar then swerved to meet the steel grey gaze of Forrest knowing he understood perfectly and let him answer for her as he pulled a fresh cigar out of his pocket. "Cause he killed the man that touched her."

"That would be why." Though it wasn't totally true. Floyd killed the man who ruined his deal and acted a fool when he should have known better. Made him an example. She looked back at her notes and began to gather up the cards knowing it was time to go.

"I can't believe you know Floyd Banner personally." Jack was still in awe of the whole affair.

"You know him… what makes it any different?" Charlie grumbled as she wrote out the last lines of an apple pie recipe. "Keep in mind Jack, if you so much as whisper this to a soul you'll draw a lot of negative attention my way. I don't have family ties here or a good reputation to keep me from being shunned and I am really enjoying my allotted time in Franklin. Do me a kindness and keep your lips sealed."

"Course Miss Charlie." He said it with such enthusiasm she almost believed him.

"Jack clean that mess off the bar." It was the low moody grunt of noise. A sound she had grown accustomed to from the brawny man watching her like a hawk.

He was near enough that she felt his breath brush the hairs on the back of her neck and sent at strange sort of shiver down her spine. Taking care to put the cards away gently she climbed from her seat with the pages she needed and looked to the man. His warmth was seeping into her, the wool scent of his sweater blended with tobacco, and something else about the Forrest that made her always want to get a sniff of him when he was close. She gave a small smile and stepped a little away hoping he didn't notice her blush and tried to cover with a confident voice, "I suspect things are square with you and Banner now. No hard feelings and all that."

Forrest gave a curt not, those intense eyes holding hers for a moment.

Swallowing past the strange feeling in her throat Charlie lifted her purse before brushing past the solid wall of man to pull on her coat, "I'll leave you boys to do whatever it is you do once it grows dark in Franklin."

"No one said you had to go," Howard grumbled opening a fresh jar. "Sit down and have a celebratory drink with us. Sides, there ain't nothing to do in town tonight and it's too dark now for you to sit and look at things."

"So I should look at your sloppy ass instead?" She teased, pushing her arm though the sleeve of her coat.

"Didn't know you was lookin at my ass," Howard added with a leer.

Freezing in her movements with her jacket half on she looked at the oldest brother, took in his disheveled dirty appearance and burst out laughing, her tension easing. He might be a drunken fool but he sure was funny. "Howard, when you get your shit together and stop drinking every waking hour you'll make yourself a decent man."

"I prefer indecent."

"So I've noticed."

Forrest had been watching, gaging her words and movements waiting for her to look at him when Howard was telling her to stay so he could nod in agreement. She had not looked.

With her coat on she turned to Jack, "You got my keys?"

"Actually Forrest fixed your car," the well-dressed boy answered with a shrug as the teeth were dropped with a tinny clank into the waste bucket.

At last those sapphire blue eyes were on him, Charlie's smile soft as she crossed the space toward the bar to say goodbye. "I hope it was not too much trouble." Her hand came out, palm up to take her keys.

Looking down at her soft white hand he scowled and made a noise deep in his throat, "Wasn't no trouble."

"I appreciate it Forrest and for letting me copy down your mamma's recipes." He pressed the keys into her hand as she spoke. "How much do I owe you?"

His finely shaped brows grew down as he looked from her soft hand to her eyes. "Grimes will cover the cost of your car."

"I mean for lunch," she said with a smile. "Best meal I have had in ages."

"Uh," He glanced to the side for a fraction of a second as he answered. "We thought you might like something fillin after your long trip..." He looked almost embarrassed as Howard snorted a laugh behind him. "You don't owe a thing."

Charlie looked surprised, her brows fractionally raised and the blue eyes lost their typical edge as she found him looking back at her. She gave him a warm heart melting smile and offered her hand. He took her fingers and watched her lower her lashes, looking to his chest as if counting the buttons of his vest as their fists moved in the air.

Moments later she was in her car heading away from the station.

"I bet you wanna give her something fillin." Howard muttered to his jar with a devilish tone. His laughter was loud and vibrant at his own joke before Forrest slapped the back of his head. "Oww Forrest. Shit, Charlie ain't gonna chase you like Maggie did. If you want her you're gonna have to go get her."

"She ain't no Maggie," Forrest was red faced with anger and seriously considering punching Howard right in the goddamn face.

"No she ain't," Whether it was his drunkenness or his frustration with Forrest it didn't matter. Howard stood from his chair, several inches taller than his brother and corrected venomously. "Maggie was a showgirl from Chicago who thought she'd play at livin the quiet life when things got sticky back home. Well take a good look around Forrest," Howard gestured round the room, spilling moonshine from the jar in his hand as it swept the view, "Maggie ain't here. She left… probably to go right back to where she was before… doin her dance with feathers." Howard moved past grumbling about how fucking stupid his younger brother was for pining over the redhead, the screen door banging behind him as he plopped down into the rocking chair on the porch to finish his jar.

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**I am hearing crickets... let me know if you wish for me to continue this story. Please Review.**


	6. Chapter 5

**To thank you for the encouraging reviews I wanted to get this out to you quickly. I'm glad to hear that you like the story and I am grateful you took the time to tell me: AvalonTheLadyKiller, RicoRico, and mystery guests.**

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**Chapter 5**

"Jack," Forrest called from his office, cantankerous after the late night run and the brawl he found waiting for him at the end of it.

"Yeah Forrest," Jack replied, leaning his head in the office door to see what needed to be done.

"I need you to run into town to pick up a shipment, then find Howard and tell him to get his ass up to the stills. Gotta get them jars full for tomorrow night's run."

"Sure thing brother Forrest." Reaching for his coat Jack was already on his way out the door.

Picking up the cases of Ball jars was done quickly. As he was securing his load with a tarp the local postman came lumbering toward him. "Jack Bondurant. Package come from Chicago this morning for Blackwater Station."

Not sure what it was Jack just followed the rotund gentleman to collect a large box wrapped in brown paper. There was no name, no return address, just the address of the station. The box itself was light and made no noise when Jack shook it. Tossing it onto the car seat he made his way to call on Miss Charlie, hoping she might come up to the station with him for lunch.

Stepping into the parlor of Fontanne's Boardinghouse the fat old gossip herself was sitting, mending a shirt. "Good afternoon Mrs. Fontanne." His charming smile did not work on her for an instant. "I came to see if Miss Elliot was in."

"That woman's been gone for days." The way it was barked into the air made it clear the Missus did not care for Charlie one wit. "Just comes and goes as she pleases with no concern to tell us where or when."

"I'm awful sorry to hear that. You know when she'll be back?"

A flash of eyes darted up behind the glasses resting on the tip of Mrs. Fontanne's nose. "No Jack Bondurant, I don't know when she'll be back... just like I told your brother Forrest two days ago."

"Forrest was here?" He sounded down right amazed.

"That's what I said isn't it?" She sat down the mending. "You tell your brother that he's wasting his time if he's thinking of courtin that woman. There's something unnatural about her."

"You shouldn't be saying harsh words about a new person in town Mrs. Fontanne." He stood tall and let his voice grow severe. "Us Bondurants call her friend and I don't suspect your husband would take to kindly to starting trouble with the family who loaned him the money to keep this place afloat." He put on his hat as she huffed and left with a polite, "Have a good afternoon now."

By the time he was back at the station the jars already unloaded at the stills he was worked up and muttering under his breath. Carrying the strange package through the door he went straight to the bar, dumping the box on the polished wood before announcing to his brother, "I think that old biddy Mrs. Fontanne is givin our Charlie a hard time. Called her unnatural…"

There were a few local men eating lunch and sipping on jars nearby, one or two looking up at the youngest Bondurant's outburst.

Forrest looked up from his ledger, eyes still grumpy and answered gruffly. "You called on Miss Elliot?"

"Yeah, wanted to see if she might come down to the station for lunch but she's gone off somewhere." Jack took off his hat and began to pull at the ties of the package.

"What's that you got there?" Grey eyes looked to the address.

"Package came this morning for the station," Jack answered as his pocket knife cut the string.

Forrest reached forward and took the box from his brother, irritated that he would open something that was clearly intended for him. Grey eyes looked into the irritated blue in warning before Forrest pulled off the brown paper handing it to Jack to fold and found an embellished _House of_ _Vionnet_ stamped onto a shiny white box. A crease formed between his brows as Forrest lifted the lid to find tissue paper covering something that smelled of lavender. Lifting the paper aside with a scowl he found soft silken fabric, off-white with a golden sheen. Impulsively Forrest ran his fingertips over it, never having felt satin before. Lifting up the card he read:

_Feathers for little Blackbird_

Realizing just what was in the box he quickly covered it and snapped on the lid, grabbing the damn thing to hide in his office before anyone could see him touching a woman's dress.

When he got back to the bar Jack was silently laughing at him, "It ain't gonna bite you Forrest."

Taking his chair again Forrest merely grunted and ignored his younger brother, his foul mood only rising. He could feel the heat coming off his skin despite the chill in the air and tried to focus on the numbers before him, determined to balance the ledger before he went to the stills that night.

"You better see to getting yourself a nice suit brother Forrest," Jack picked an imaginary piece of lint off his brother's shoulder, "if you plan to stand anywhere near her while she's wearing something like that." His fashionable younger brother had to get one more dig in before he moved behind the bar.

Forrest slammed down his pencil grabbed his ledger and retreated to the office muttering, "Get to work," under his breath as he passed.

Business had been busy at the station and it was almost dusk before Forrest and Jack climbed into the truck to head to the stills to meet Howard. The entire drive Forrest was making a mental list of all the jars that should have been done by the time they arrived and was preparing to lay into Howard if he found him drunk and loafing…

The scene he arrived to was far worse. The muffled voice of his brother telling what had to be one of the raunchiest jokes Forrest had ever heard sounded from the small hidden copse where the men had built a lean-to to house the stills hidden under a canopy of wildlife. When he walked in the door Howard was sitting before a fire with a man facing him, the stranger's shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

Prowling forward ready to tear into Howard for bringing an outsider to their stills Forrest froze when the man with his back to him spoke and the sound of his golden girl filled the air with an equally bawdy joke that made Howard slap his knee and throw back his head he was howling so hard. "Damn Charlie, where the hell you pick up that one?"

"Whorehouse outside of Nashville," She chuckled, taking a sip from her jar, unaware Forrest was coming up behind her.

"And just what the hell were you doin at a whorehouse Charlotte?" the low grate of Forrest's voice cut the laughter.

Charlie choked on her liquor and began to cough, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, "Jesus Forrest, you just about gave me a heart attack." Looking over her shoulder she found him so close that if she leaned back an inch his legs would meet her shoulder.

"Answer the question." His tone had grown even lower, almost menacing.

She gave him that cocky grin that heated his blood. "Tracking a man named Franco Ramirez… I'll let you in on a trade secret. If you slip the whores two dollars they tend to wear out your prey for you… then all you gotta do it tie them up and drag them off. Everybody's happy… Well, Franco wasn't happy…"

"How much you been drinkin?" Forrest asked crouching to take a good look at her. Her hair was tucked under an old hat, dirt smeared here and there on her face. A dark blue flannel men's shirt was unbuttoned past her collarbones and hanging loose over a pair of rough trousers. She was in men's clothing but something about the way the fabric hinted at was underneath was only making it more appealing and if he leaned forward just an inch he'd be able to see right down her…

"Leave her alone Forrest," Howard grumbled cocking his head toward the corner and catching his attention before he got caught doing something inappropriate. "She barely even touched that jar in her hand. Besides, while you two pansies were relaxing at the station Charlie helped me fill the order for tomorrow night. Works all done."

Grey eyes darted past the darkening room to find what Howard had said to be true. "And just how did she come to be here Howard?"

Charlie started laughing quietly as if they shared some inside joke before looking up at the irate middle brother. "I was hunting Forrest. He heard me shoot a deer nearby."

"Found her walking through the woods pleased as could be with a doe hangin right cross her shoulders." Howard was still struck at what an odd sight it had been. "We've been waiting for you two to finally show up so that we could eat."

On cue Charlie rose to her feet and moved to the door, walking quietly to where her cleaned deer was hanging from a tree. Hunting knife already in hand she stabbed into the carcass, sawing down the back for the backstrap and loin as Forrest eased up behind her. "She's a nice young doe, a little small. Still," she pulled down a long strip of meat, "should be plenty to feed us all and then some." She looked at the man right behind her, noticed he was looking at her work with something almost akin to appreciation in his eyes. "I want you to know Forrest, I had no idea your stills were hidden around here. I meant no harm…"

"Ain't safe to hunt alone," He could see her purse her lips before she went back to cut out the meat on the other side of the doe.

She just looked at the man, a wicked gleam in her eye, "I don't know any hunters around here who would feel comfortable traipsing through the woods with a woman and I have seen you Bondurants fire a weapon, you can't hit the broad side of a barn. You'd scare away all the deer." The look on his face at her words made her bite her lip and grin at him. "I'll tell you what… set aside some time and I will show you how to actually hit the target you're aiming at someday."

The way she was talking to him, the playfulness in her tone made him keep his mouth shut and simply grunt instead of rising to the bait. Howard lumbered over and took the meat stacked in her hands, getting it ready for the grill he had heating over their fire. Charlie stepped up to the side of the adjacent creek and kneeled down to wash her hands and knife in the frigid water.

Setting aside her hat her hands cupped the water to splash her face, feeling the cold drops run down her neck, cooling the skin that suddenly felt too hot. Hat in hand she put it back on her head and found Forrest standing where he had been the whole time, holding out his mussed handkerchief for her to dry her face. She took it with a grateful smile and quickly wiped her face, leaning her head back to swipe her neck and the moisture running down into her shirt, unaware how very alluring the motion was.

Folding the cloth politely she handed it back with a thank you and brushed past the wide eyed man, "Come on Forrest. Let me feed you for once."

An hour later the four of them sat around the fire, stomachs near to bursting on the venison steaks Charlie grilled for them, served with moonshine it was an exemplary backwoods dinner. Jack set to talking about Bertha, ribbed constantly by Howard as Forrest leaned back against some crates and smoked his cigar next to Charlie.

The way his lips wrapped around the stogie, Charlie kept finding her eye drawn to it, sneaking glances from under the brim of her hat when she though he wasn't looking. He caught her staring and Forrest finally spoke, "How long you been out in these woods?"

She quickly looked back to the fire and a warm swallow of applejack smoothed over her tongue. "Since around noon I suppose."

"Lookin at things?" Howard teased glad the focus was no longer on Jack's nonsense.

He just loved to tease her. Looking to the eldest Bondurant she smiled broadly, "looking at things..."

"And just what did you see?" He knew a tirade of local flora and fauna was about to pour from her lips.

Dreamy she swallowed more liquor and briefly detailed the red clay hills, the smell of the woods in the valley, the interesting shape of a foundation of a house lost long ago.

"When you talk about my hometown I feel like it's a place I've never really been," Jack said, leaning back on his elbows and looking at her with a boyish grin. "I don't think anyone sees Franklin like you do Miss Charlie."

"Cricket did," Charlie sighed and tipped her head back. "I still have not found half the places he told me about."

"You should get out of that boardinghouse and get yourself a proper home," Jack said as he placed a cigarette between his lips. After lighting the tip and pulling in a breath of smoke he added, "A place with a big porch. I think you'd like that."

A satisfied, "hmmmmmm," was her only answer.

A yawn preceded the observation, "I'm surprised you don't find Franklin to be boring after living in Chicago. All the excitement… Al Capone… Bugs Moran." His voice was a little wistful as he thought of their lives, wealth and respect.

She opened her eyes to look at Jack's naive expression. "I hear a touch of hero worship in your voice when you say those gangsters' names Jack Bondurant. Listen to me when I tell you this. No matter how glamorous the newspapers make them out to be… calling men like Al Capone a modern day Robin Hood and other such rubbish," her voice sounded disgusted at the title, "They are not like you and your brothers."

Jack looked offended, mistaking her meaning, "We're just as tough-"

Charlie cut him off, "Those men are dark hearted Jack. They're evil." She took a sip of the applejack, felt it burn a fire past her heart. "It's more than harmless bootlegging. I've seen it firsthand: Extortion, corruption, murder, rape… Al Capone runs brothels all over the city filled with girls, some so young they can hardly be called women. They take advantage of the weak to build their _legacy_. That's what they really are… just bad men in nice suits."

Jack had never heard her voice so sharp and unfriendly. "What about your Floyd Banner?"

"He's just like the rest of them… and don't go thinking a man like that is a friend to you. The only reason Floyd hasn't killed you is because of him," She gestured toward Forrest with her jar. "Banner is intimidated by the kind of hell Forrest Bondurant and his reputation could bring down upon him when he's busy enough with the lawmen and constant power struggle in Chicago."

Her point made Jack's eyes go wide. "How'd you end up close to a man like Banner?"

Forrest cleared his throat and shot his younger brother a warning glare. Prying was not a good idea. Charlie tipped her head back, leaning against the stack of crates at her back and closed her eyes. The fire crackled loudly as she sucked her lower lip into her mouth to chew it. Silent minutes passed until at length Charlie set her lip free and spoke to the air, "I worked for Banner as a kid. My twin brother ran coal for the man… Floyd's cover for the bootlegging. We looked a lot alike as children. After he was was murdered I cut my hair off and simply took over his work at the Midnight Coal Company. By the time I was thirteen I was running liquor instead of coal... and real sweet on one of the boys in the gang." Her eyes were still closed, missing the grey eyes that instantly darted to her face, watching every movement of her lips. "I thought the sun rose and set just by the way he smiled. One day he caught me staring at him, all starry eyed… and busted my lip," she pointed at the now visible scar, "before punching me in the gut and calling me a queer." She snorted a caustic laugh. "I didn't even know what that word meant but I did see the look of disgust all the men had on their faces, including Banner. I punched the boy back knowing not to let those types of men see you as weak. He beat me good but even so I did not back down...They had to tear us apart."

Sapphire blue eyes opened and looked to Jack fully aware Howard and Forrest were watching her, eager to hear her story even if they would never have asked. "Needless to say I was a little heartbroken. That same night I was sent with a truck to a small speakeasy in the midst of a turf war between the Italians and Mad Dog, basically a lamb to the slaughter. If I had not been mooning over what had happened earlier I probably would have seen trouble… but I didn't. Capone himself came out of a car and gunned down our group killing everyone else almost instantly. I was behind the crates in the truck. He saw me… and pulled out his pistol. I caught a bullet in the gut and fell first face in the street. Scarface used his shiny clean shoes to flip me onto my back before he told me to crawl on home and tell Mr. Banner just what had been done… to let him know Capone would kill him himself if he saw one more of Floyd's trucks or goons in that neighborhood."

"With my hand pressed to my belly I climbed into the truck and drove to the Midnight Coal Company… By the time I made it back I could hardly move. One of the men pulled me from the car and laid me in the gutter. Floyd himself stood over me with a pistol pointed at my skull. I told him what Capone said and Banner just laughed. I'll never forget watching his eyes look to my gut as he smiled and said, 'Lead in the belly is a slow way to die. Consider this an act of mercy.' He cocked his gun and asked if I had any last words. I motioned for him to lean down and whispered my secret in his ear. I told him with the last bit of voice I could manage that I was a girl, needing someone to know before I died."

She could see it in her head, the flash of disbelief on Floyd's face as he looked at first appalled then mortified. He yelled for the men to fetch a doctor and carried her inside, ordering everyone else away. He lifted her blood saturated shirt and found her small breasts bound with strips of filthy rags and cursed loudly a string of words Charlie had never even imagined could be put together. A doctor did come and pulled out the bullet, stitched her closed.

It was clear Charlie was lost in thought, her story having ended abruptly; catching herself she gave a weak smile. "He got the bullet out, kept me on as a worker, and kept my secret. Floyd is a villain but seems even he has his limits… executing a young girl being one of them. He kept me close as I recovered and I told him about my mother, made him see why he needed to keep me on. I had always been a hard worker, willing to do anything, the most menial task… I think he saw that if I left him I would just walk straight to the next gangster down the road for work… so he kept me. The types of duties I was given altered. I became his errand boy, cleaned the offices, organize papers, and eventually road the trucks as his rifleman on runs in the city. A few times a week he took me home and his wife scrubbed me clean and fed me a decent meal before I scampered back to whatever hole I was living in that month. When no one was looking he taught me to read, how to keep the books. Floyd is the closest thing I ever had to a father and he did right by me in his way; made it so I could still take care of my mamma, I keep her fed and tended to when the rest of the city was starving."

Jack seemed entranced by her tale. "What happened to the boy?"

"The boy?" She asked confused.

"The one you were sweet on."

Charlie gave a breathy laugh and took a swig. "You met him the other night. Tommy Kennedy… Floyd's current right hand man."

That handsome son of a bitch… Forrest made a noise deep in his throat and chewed his cigar, glaring at the fire as he thought of the dress tucked away in his office. When the door had been close he'd taken it from the box to study the silky fabric. Tommy would be with her when she wore it, he would be the one beside her at that fancy family dinner. Forrest fumed about it for so long that he failed to notice that Howard was passed out dead drunk and Jack was snoring softly. Even Charlotte was laying with her head resting on her arm fast asleep. Tossing the stump of his cigar into the fire he looked openly at her face, she wore that same soft expression he'd seen the morning he'd woke up to find her secretly wrapped in his arms. He stared for what felt like hours until she shivered and parted her lips. Slipping off his cardigan he placed it over her before laying down, his head near hers, to find sleep.

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When he woke up his cardigan was draped across him and the golden girl was gone. Snoring louder than a saw mill Howard was leaning against a pile of hay, head tipped back at what looked like an uncomfortable angle. A heavy sleeper, Forrest knew Howard would not wake without a sharp kick. Jack was lying on his side, curled up like a dog and slumbering peaceful as Forrest pulled on his cardigan. He walked past his brothers and out to the copse to see where on earth she had got to so early.

It didn't take long to find her, splashing as she was in the stream. She was washing her hunting knife, her face and hair wet from the rise she just gave them. The flannel of her shirt was rolled up past her elbows despite the chill. He watched her from a distance as she began to butcher the doe, wrapping up hearty cuts in paper she clearly brought with her for the task. Watching her dress the deer, no ounce of hesitation despite the blood, almost brought a quirk to the cornier of his lips. Charlie was certainly a unique woman.

The sound of her voice brought his attention away from her backside in trousers and to her face. A soft smile played on her mouth and she began to sing quietly, oblivious to the man watching her. Easing closer in an attempt to make out the words of the unfamiliar melody Forrest caught the nature of her song and leaned against a tree to listen. The lyrics spoke of longing, a little lonely but in her low smooth voice the song became seductive. The longer Forrest listened the warmer his face grew, his chest constricting uncomfortably.

"Banner is going to try to keep you in Chicago," the words were grunted, almost coarse in their tone.

Looking up slightly startled, she found him leaning against a tree a little behind her, his breath showing in the frigid morning air. A small smile on her lips she cocked her head toward him and said what they both knew was true, "I suspect he might. I suppose dinner and dancing at the Drake Hotel is part of the enticement… though once he sees my sorry way of dancing I might just embarrass him enough to have him wash his hands of me." She snickered to herself before going back to butchering the deer, "Should be pretty interesting either way."

"You, uhh, you danced just fine at the Willard's barn a few months back." Forrest offered, leaning putting his hands in his pockets as he watched her work.

Freezing mid slice Charlie asked, eyes on her doe, "I never could figure out why you were glaring at me that night, especially if you didn't know who I was…"

"I wasn't glarin at you."

Her eyes darted up to see him looking away from her, staring as if there was something really important in the woods to his left. "Every time I looked up you were staring straight at me Forrest, scowling something awful."

A catch of deep noise came from his chest as he shifted his weight against the tree, "I ah," He grumbled and cleared his throat, "New woman in town shouldn't just go dancing with strangers."

"If I didn't dance with strangers I would not have danced at all. That's the point of barn dances… to socialize. And if you were so concerned for a strange woman's public image then you should have asked me to dance yourself."

"I don't dance."

Sitting back on her heels and somewhat annoyed she gave him a long look. "If after a lifetime of pretending to be a man I can learn to wear a dress, walk in heels, and dance badly with strangers then you have no excuse. Coward." Then went right back to cutting meat.

She was grumbling about obstinate moody men as she finished the last slice of hind quarter. Once it was done a hand took her elbow, ignoring the blood on her fingers as Forrest pulled her to stand. Setting his other hand at her waist he met her shocked expression, grey eyes running over the fine arch of her brows.

"What are you doing?"

He looked ready to meet her challenge. "I'm gonna dance with you."

Stupidly she stared for a heartbeat then in a very unladylike fashion wiped her bloody hands on the front of her shirt before setting one hand on his shoulder and the other in his warm palm. Her throat was dry and she could feel a blush creeping into her cheeks as she waited for him to start.

The fallen autumn leaves were a little slippery as they crunched under their boots in the first steps she stumbled through. He knew how to dance… she didn't. A few seconds into it he had her snickering at herself as she stared at her clumsy feet. He lifted his arm and gave her a spin, catching her as she giggled, sapphire eyes glittering from their game. "You are a liar Forrest Bondurant. You can dance just fine."

She almost had it then stumbled, stepped on his foot, and fell against him. Muttering an apology she stepping back red faced and stammered, "I think we can both agree I'm terrible at this."

"No you ain't," he said watching her pull away only to yank her back, his tone almost teasing… almost, "Don't give up just cause you tripped once."

And so they kept at it as she laughed continuously, eyes gleaming and with a smile that would not quit. When she completed several steps with no mistakes triumph was blazing all over her flushed face. He spun and caught her again, eyes locked and in the early morning light. Forrest looked down to her mouth as he caught her closer, staring hard until he gave into the insatiable urge to know if she tasted as good as she looked. Moving on instinct, as if it were part of the dance he leaned down and laid his lips against hers, capturing her mouth quickly in a heated kiss.

She had not seen it coming but once his full lipped mouth was applying delicious pressure against hers she closed her eyes and let out a soft hum, enjoying the decadent sensation of the kiss. When he pulled back to see her reaction he found her with her eyes closed, a hint of a smile as her fingertips brushed her lips in a slow circle right where he'd just touched her. Her thick lashed fluttered open as she started at the broad chest of the virile man before her and took a breath, finally allowing herself to pull in the scent of him, muttering as she blushed, "I never… no one has ever…" She could still feel the tingle of her lips as her sapphire eyes found the intensely staring grey. Her voice was husky and thick as she tried to speak, "Do it again."

And he did. Forrest held her as his mouth crashed down in hunger and she began to kiss him back. Every nerve ending came alive and her skin was so hot she felt steam must be rising right off her. Charlie's hands fisted in his sweater and she let out a whimper when a warm callused palm cupped the back of her neck.

Forrest was practically shaking he was fighting so hard not to crush the golden girl to him. Her hair under his hand was so soft and her limbs so small he was certain she'd shatter if she knew just what he desired to do to her body. His cock was at attention in his trousers, throbbing painfully and pressed against her stomach as she clung to him, oblivious to the danger she was putting herself in. When her cold fingers brushed up this chest and grazed his neck he just about lost it. Quickly Forrest pulled back panting, eyes wide and burning with desire. He could not bring himself to look away from her mouth, all swollen and pink… her pretty lips and that eye-catching scar.

She mistook his intense expression for anger and stepped back stammering an apology, wondering what she'd done wrong. Maybe she shouldn't have asked him to kiss her again? Maybe she shouldn't have touched him? Maybe she'd been to forward for her first kiss? Mentally listing all the possibilities she stared off into the woods with a vulnerable expression under her heated eyes. His fingers came up to tuck a wild piece of hair back behind her ear, saying with his actions what he didn't know how to say with words, catching her gaze with a softer one of his own.

Before he could mumble something sweet Jack's voice boomed out across the valley, bellyaching that he was hungry and ready to head back to the station. Forrest had seen how she jumped like a scared rabbit at the sound and shuffled passed him to gather up the meat she'd carved from the almost frozen doe. Collecting the rest of her things she began to make trips to where her car was tucked away behind some trees and loaded it up, Forrest silently helping her manage the larger pieces and her small pack.

As he was setting her packages down he saw her dress tossed in the back and knew she'd need to change before heading into town. Clearing his throat he nodded to the dress. "If you like I will keep watch for ya."

What she'd like would be to have him kiss her again or maybe just to get the hell out of there with some scrap of dignity before he saw her panting after him. Nodding she grabbed the dress and ran around so the car shielded her from where Howard and Jack were waking. Ripping out of her clothes she yanked the cotton dress over her head, tugging the fabric into place before tossing the discarded clothing in the back. Circling the truck she found Forrest standing with his back to her, his hat in his hands.

"I'll be on my way now Forrest." She muttered, combing her hair with her fingers and wiggling her bare toes in the cold damp leaves underfoot. "Thanks for helping me load the car."

He looked her over from her dirty toes, mussed cotton dress, and quickly rising chest before settling on her face. He could see it written all over her, confusion, shy quick darted glances toward him… and Forrest knew she was truly an innocent in the ways of men no matter what she may have seen or how many colorful jokes she'd picked up. He was right what he'd said to Howard, thought his brother had taken it wrong… Charlotte Elliot was no Maggie. How on earth a woman like her could have come out of the world she grew up in was past him.

Pulling open her car door like a gentleman he grumbled, "Drive on down to the station and I'll make you breakfast, that meat will keep in this cold a few hours yet."

Nodding mutely she did just that.

She made it down the mountain before the boys and stood in her boots and cotton dress on the porch watching the sun shine down on the surrounding woodland, lost in the view until Forrest's old truck pulled up.

Howard's blood shot eyes took one look at her and burst out laughing… a cotton dress and men's boots not really being a sight he'd seen on a woman. She was laughing right with him, fully aware of what caught his amusement. Shielding her eyes from the sun she admitted, "I couldn't find my shoes under all the junk I have piled up in my car… Can't wait to see Mrs. Fontanne's reaction when she sees me like this."

A hidden tick came to the corner of Forrest's lips but he quickly squelched it, sauntering up the steps to open the door lest she think he was laughing at her.

He had not been completely honest when he offered to make her breakfast, instead when they were all inside, Howard sitting at the bar with Jack grumbling beside him Forrest fired up the grill and handed her the apron, noting the intrigued look in her eye. Her first lesson in cooking was a simple one, how to properly fry an egg, make coffee, and toast bread. You would have thought she was cooking for the queen of England the way she focused and took care to do precisely what he told her to. And despite the moody expression on his face Forrest was highly amused at her bumbling. When the men ate her simple breakfast she knew they were being overly generous in their praise… she had broken several yolks and burned half the toast.

"Next time you should teach her how to make flapjacks," Howard grunted between bites, "That's my favorite."

Her voice was laced with impishness, "I'll get right on that Howard." Glancing up at the clock she began to pull off the apron, "Well, slaving over your breakfast has been fun but I need to run."

"You just got back into town… Where on earth you going to now?" Forrest grumbled then felt his ears turn red at the admission he knew she'd been away.

Oblivious to his discomfort she stated with a wicked flare to her eyes, "It's a secret…"

"Before you run off," Jack chimed in after a deep swallow of coffee. "A package was delivered here for you yesterday."

Pausing in her actions she looked confused and waited for the youngest to clarify. He simply stood up and went back to Forrest's office to retrieve the box.

"We didn't mean to open it but there was no name, only an address," his young voice was always so exuberant.

With a confused, "Thanks Jack," Charlie set the shiny white box on the bar, recognizing the fine dress maker and lifted the lid to find the gown. Checking to make sure her hands were clean she reached in and lifted the length of glowing satin, holding it up with a quirk in her lips. "Well that is certainly a pretty dress."

"That ain't no dress," Forrest grumbled into his coffee. Dresses were not supposed to make you look more naked then clothed.

Howard whistled when she held it up before her as if wearing it. It would cling like a silk slip, show every line of her figure. "Sure it is, this is what the women wear in the big cities for a night on the town…" It was clear she was taken with it, the way her eyes danced over the rhinestones that made the straps glow and edged around the fabric that would boldly display her naked back. "This is what is in fashion."

"Girl caught dressing like that around Franklin would draw a lot of attention," Jack swallowed, thinking of how breathtaking Bertha would look in a gown like that.

Charlie just laughed and put the dress back in the box. "I dress like a man and y'all hardly bat an eyelash. You see one stylish evening gown and you start muttering like I'm indecent. I do not understand you Bondurant boys." Poking around the box she gave a squeal and proclaimed, "Ohhh! There's shoes too."

"Why he call you Blackbird?" Jack asked as she read the card… making it obvious he'd read it.

Forrest just rolled his eyes, he'd have to have a talk with that boy once she left.

Offhandedly Charlie repackaged everything and said, "When I first started working for Banner I was always covered in coal… fast and skinny like a bird. It was a taunt and eventually the name just stuck."

* * *

**I hope you liked their latest escapades! Please Review.**

**Dont forget to follow on FB facebook Esther cain 545**


	7. Chapter 6

**Welcome back to WANTED! Shout out to my very sweet reviewers: marulk, AvalonTheLadyKiller, and Guest x.**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Walking up the well-tended path to Pastor Minnix's humble dwelling Charlie struggled not to fidget with the collar buttoned high to her neck. The ankle length skirt was tangling between her legs as she hefted a basket filled with the packaged cuts of venison from her kill. She had rushed from the station to clean up her appearance and make it to the house hoping to catch the Pastor home.

Tapping politely at the door she waited doing her best to look as conservative as possible and hardly waited three breaths before the man himself stood on the threshold. He was severe in his dark plain suit and long tended beard the men of the Brethren sported.

"Good morning Pastor Minnix." She offered a little curtsy certain this was not a man who shook a strange woman's hand. "I was told how intrinsic you are to the community sir." Charlie hefted the brimming basket. "I have a basket of fresh venison here and though you might distribute it to any families that might be in need."

"And who might you be?" He was polite though clearly not ready to open his door to her.

"My name is Charlotte Elliot," peeking past the preacher she saw Bertha watching her with a smile. "I am an acquaintance of your daughter Bertha."

"Your family from these parts?"

"No sir, my family is no longer with me," She gave a glowing smile, "I have been living at Nightingales Boardinghouse where the Fontannes take decent care of me." Before he could ask more questions she went in for the kill. "You see sir, there is another reason I came to see you. I wanted to ask your permission before I approached Bertha for a favor. She has the reputation in town of being one of Franklin's best bakers… I keep hearing about her cobbler… and well, do to the situation I grew up in I have been working since I was a child and never learned the finer feminine arts. I was hoping you might allow her to teach me how to prepare a few things. I would supply all the ingredients of course…" Charlie did not need to see past the preacher to know Bertha was smiling and trying her damnedest not to laugh.

Flattering the man's daughter to his face seemed to be just the ticket to win his approval, especially implying that Bertha was renowned for her womanly skills. The preacher took the heavy basket and asked if Charlie would like to step inside.

"Bertha, child, would you mind helping out Miss Elliot?"

"Not at all father," clear blue eyes twinkled at Charlie, "It would be unchristian to do anything less."

Now it was Charlie's turn to suppress a stupid grin.

"Just where did you come by all this meat child?" Pastor Minnix asked setting the weight on the simple table.

"I was driving to get some gas and a deer ran out into the road right in front of my car. The poor thing…" Looking wide eyed at the concerned face of the pastor she continued the lie. "I was just shocked, then Jack Bondurant saw me and stopped to see if I was alright. His brother Forrest repaired my car, didn't charge me a nickel and offered to butcher the deer so others might benefit from the situation. Jack suggested I come to you, claimed you would know what to do. I took it as a sign from God to put aside my shyness and finally approach."

The old blue eyes of Pastor Minnix had darkened at the initial mention of Jack but Charlie was slowly painting a picture of how amiable the men were. "I am very grateful to that family. They were really kind to me and got me back on the road in no time."

Bertha spoke up knowing it was her cue to jump in, "When would you like to start your lessons?"

A warm glowing smile landed on Charlie lips. "I am going to visit an old friend of my mother's day after tomorrow and would love to take her some cookies. Might I come by early tomorrow?"

"Is that acceptable to you father?" Bertha asked with wide blue eyes.

"Indeed," The man rose and nodded a goodbye, "I will leave you ladies to one another's company. Teach her well Bertha."

Once they were alone the two women sat across from one another, silent, but both grinning devilishly.

* * *

It had been a fun afternoon giggling wickedly with Bertha and the next morning Charlie was there, bright and early with her arms full of groceries. The Pastor looked on at first with a sharp eye to assure Miss Elliot's behavior was appropriate for a friend of his daughter but left with a nod about thirty minutes into the women's batter mixing.

"Dear lord I thought he would never leave," Bertha complained as she beat butter drop batter.

Charlie was laughing darkly, taking a taste of the dough in her own bowl. "When I head on up to the station later you want me to take that pie you have sitting pretty as you please in the window?"

The teasing meaning was not missed by her new friend, "Indeed I do. I should warn you though Charlie. Them Bondurant boys are trouble," There was a naughty gleam in Bertha's eyes, "Good appealin trouble…"

Charlie just gave a long wicked look as she bit her lip and winked. "When you gonna marry that boy Bertha? All I hear from him is Bertha this and Bertha that… he is smitten with you to no end."

"Soon as he gets the gumption to ask my father." The way she spoke, the playful smartness, Bertha Minnix would be good for Jack. She was a sharp thing and would keep the boy grounded.

"Roosevelt will win the election and end Prohibition. I suspect Bondurant name will become respectable in a year or two…" Charlie was talking softly as she tried to put uniform dollops of batter on the cookie sheet. "Unless of course you just decide to up and run off with him."

Bertha snorted before reaching out with the tip of a towel to wipe a smear of flour off of Charlie's face, "If you think ending prohibition will make the Bondurant name respectable… you just might be crazy. There is a reason those men are so… illustrious … it's an unspoken fact but just about eight months ago there was a big shoot out. Them Bondurants killed a corrupt special deputy who'd murdered their friend Cricket and their cousin. My Jack, idiot that he was, got shot. Forrest too, three times. That deputy, Charles Rakes, well his body was never found."

Her voice was hard as the thought of sweet Cricket's murderer flashed through her head, "Some men wake up in the morning asking to be gunned down…"

"Maybe you're right." Bertha darted her eyes at Charlie, a small tinge of fear in the wide pretty blue. "I can see why Forrest likes you."

"Howard is the one that likes me, a good friend of mine these days; Forrest tolerates my presence." Charlie clarified trying not to think back on the stolen kiss the morning before.

"That's not what Jack says," the petite blonde gave a knowing smirk and made her voice playfully wistful, "Seems he is quite taken with you. Good thing too. Must have hurt him when Maggie ran off."

Charlie had forgotten all about the stunning redhead. An odd feeling sat in her gut. Their encounter may have been brief but Charlie could picture her now; Maggie was glamorous, carried herself in a way Charlie knew drove men wild. All clumsy and awkward she could not hold a candle to the other woman. Keeping her knowledge to herself she asked innocently, "Who was Maggie?"

"She worked up at Blackwater station. A city girl, real stylish… Jack told me once she'd been a dancer in Chicago looking to settle down somewhere quiet and start over."

"Then why did she leave?"

"Rumors abound. General consensus was that Forrest refused to marry her. But my personal opinion… well, based off all Jack told me about her, is that she wasn't the kind to stick around. I think she simply got bored or maybe all the violence with the ATU scared her away." A timer dinged and Bertha pulled out a tray of perfect cookies.

Smiling down at their shared work Charlie gushed, "If I did not have your help I would have never been able to make something that looks so good."

Unprepared to let Charlie change the topic Bertha pressed, "What are Howard and Forrest like? I have never been able to speak with them but once or twice in passing and Jack's point of view might be a little flawed."

Once again the sense of the girl impressed Charlie. "Well Howard is hilarious, has the mouth of a sailor and drinks like a fish. I like him but he may be a little too rough around the edges for most ladies. Forrest is the brooding type, a man of few words who glares a lot."

"Maybe he ain't glaring…" Bertha hinted. "Maybe his is just reserved with women."

The amount of times their kiss had replayed in her head was shameful. The night before she lay in bed, hot and restless, thinking of Forrest's mouth. She did not even know what had gotten into her kissing Forrest; the man had never shown an ounce of interest. It was all her doing, she had been taken by his intensity and the air of strength around him, followed him with her eyes for months when no one was looking. Damn, she was blushing again. "He doesn't see me as a woman…" Charlie grumbled under her breath.

"Why?" Bertha plated the cookies and spoke nonchalantly knowing her Jack was not a man who could gut and butcher a deer, "Cause you hunt deer when no one is lookin?"

Charlie froze and looked to the sweet girl at her side, eyes darting in their sockets.

"Jack told me you spend time in the woods... Would you take me with you next time, take me hunting?" Her big china blue eyes were imploring as she asked.

Red faced Charlie did not know how to answer. After hesitating she stammered, "I have a feeling, uhh, Jack would not approve."

Bertha had a point. "If I don't listen to my father what makes you think I'm gonna listen to Jack."

* * *

It was there, boxed up, on the seat next to him. He'd driven all the way to Roanoke to get the damn thing… could not believe he's spent all of $30. The entire process had been uncomfortable and put him in a mood. Glaring at the box that held his new suit Forrest tucked it under the seat, out of sight so that when Howard hopped in the truck he would not have to answer any damn questions.

"Where the hell have you been Forrest?" Howard complained climbing in the truck before it rolled away from the Station.

His only answer was a grunt. Moving the toothpick between his lips from the left to the right the brothers set off toward the stills, looking at a long day of distilling and prepping a new batch. "Where's Jack?"

"He's off chasin that girl again," Howard said waving a hand as if annoyed by the whole thing.

"Course he is…" He was cantankerous, tired… and was not looking forward to working over a hot still that particular day.

The brothers did their work, Forrest getting more annoyed with how slow moving Howard was. His elder brother was usually clear minded when it came to tending the stills and his lack of vitality was wearing on Forrest's last nerve. Checking the time he called it a day and began to pack up.

"But we ain't done yet." Howard complained. "We still need to check the mash and bleed the lines."

"It'll keep," The most imperative part was done. "You can take care of it tomorrow once you get the lead out of your ass." Forrest had too much too do back at the station to dawdle in the woods with his brother.

When they were finally moving down the hill in the truck Howard was fidgeting, "Wanna go into town and see if they got our sugar order in?"

"No Howard," Forrest puffed his cigar and shot his brother a glare, "I don't got all day to fool around."

"We could call on Charlie…" Howard said blandly, picking some dried hay off his shirt.

A distrustful look lingered on his brother. The thought of Howard being sweet on Charlotte made Forrest grumble and start cursing under his breath. A girl like that may like to share rough talk but she would never bat her eyelashes at his brother… or would she? Damn he was all worked up again.

Skidding to a halt outside Blackwater Station Forrest climbed out and began pulling the tarp off the jars they'd filled with the last of the old brew, then paused at the sound of a feminine squeal followed by riotous giggles. Stalking up the steps like a snorting bull he pulled open the screen but found the station empty. Then that squeal, even louder and endless wicked laughter sounded from the floor above. He heard Jack's voice then the sound of furniture moving and more off the golden girl's peals of giggles.

Seeing red Forrest bound up the stairs, knowing what caused that kind of noise, about ready to murder his brother as Howard followed after, shouting at him to slow down. They were in his room and Jack was making her cry out... and gasp. He threw his bedroom door open with such power it banged against the wall and caused the two people in his room in the middle of a battle wielding paint brushes like swords to jump up and look at him as if he were insane.

There she was, gawking at him, her blue painter's coveralls dripping in paint smudges and a smear of white milk wash down one side of her face. His scowl was so deep as his eyes went to his younger brother that he could practically feel his brows touching. Jack, dressed the same, was covered in dripping smears of paint just as she was.

"Now calm down Forrest…" Jack said recognizing the signs of impending violence in his brother's demeanor.

"You don't like it..." Charlie sounded a little defeated, looking side to side as she chewed her lip.

It was then Forrest took a look around the room. His walls had been papered in a soft cornflower blue with a simple pattern moving down the wall in subtle vertical lines. More than that there was something entirely new in the room. Where his old mattress had rested on the floor now sat a bed, its simple sturdy wood frame fitting perfect with the room.

"Jack," Howard called from behind him once he saw Forrest let out a deep breath and some tension eased from his shoulders. "Come on downstairs now."

The youngest Bondurant hightailed it out the door, praying Forrest would not be too hard on Miss Charlie. Hell, both brothers had tried to talk her out of it but she threatened to break in a do it with or without help.

Setting the paint brush down Charlie timidly moved forward. "I went to Roanoke to get everything so no one in town would gossip."

He could not stop staring at her. "Why did you do this?"

She was ringing her hands and trying hard to meet his eye. "It's plain to see that you are so caught up in taking care of your fool brothers that you don't spend any time seeing to your own comfort. Even the empty guest room has been given more attention than you allowed your space. So, I decided to step in and do it for you. Especially seeing how you have allowed me to stay in town… gave me shelter during the storm, tended my ankle… and kicking the shit out of the Grimes boys. I thought…" She stammered realizing how lamely she was explaining herself, "I thought I would try to repay the kindness and this was really the only thing I could do for you… thought you might enjoy waking up to see something beautiful."

"And the bed?" The tips of his ears were glowing red knowing she had seen the guest room and wondering what she must think of him for bringing her into his own bed that night instead of acting like a proper gentleman.

She gave him a look that spoke volumes, "You'll sleep better in a proper bed. And you can hang your hat on the frame," It was her sorry attempt at humor… it didn't work. Looking back to the newly decorated walls she added honestly, "I made sure the wallpaper was not prissy… something masculine and soothing. I saw this and thought of you. I don't imagine you would like walls covered in flowers…"

He cleared his throat and let his eyes leave her face, forcing himself to look at what she'd done. Everything about the room seemed different now, lighter… comfortable. He noticed she lifted the brush and went back to whitewashing the baseboards, determined to finish. His boots sounded against the wood floor as he came up beside her, watching her work.

"Would you have picked something, uhhh," the tightness in his throat was making it uncomfortable to speak, "something different for yourself?"

He saw her smile, eyes still focused on making short concise strokes as she answered, "I like what I chose for you."

A grunt of noise followed by some throaty gibberish came from the man. He turned around awkwardly and just left the room. After plodding oddly down the stairs he passed his brothers, Jack piping up that they told her not to do it before Howard thwacked him. Ignoring them Forrest went straight to his office and closed the door.

He could hear her light steps as she moved around above him. Burying his nose deeper into his ledger he tried to focus on his accounts but could not stop thinking about what was happening upstairs. Conflicted over the whole thing, especially how he reacted when he thought she was up there making love to Jack, with all that squealing and giggling. That had been a stupid knee jerk reaction. Charlotte caused far too many of those in his life as of late.

The sound of his dresser being shifted made him glance up at the ceiling again. _"Something masculine and soothing…"_ She'd said, _"I saw this and thought of you…"_ The golden girl, the one he'd danced with and kissed only the morning before had gone to Roanoke to choose this for him. Forrest didn't know much about decorating but he did know that things like wallpaper had to be special ordered, the bed too. She'd organized all of this at least a week ago, before he'd kissed her, that's where she'd been when she disappeared. And that little vixen had brought his brothers reluctantly on board. No wonder Howard had been dragging his ass all day, he was supposed to keep him away so they could finish the surprise and Forrest had gone and ruined it.

Deciding it was time to talk to her he stood from his chair and opened his office door. Howard and Jack were sitting at the bar each eating a slice of what looked like apple pie. Paying them no mind he moved toward the stairs.

"She's already gone Forrest." Though his mouth was full Howard's words were clear. "But she left you something. I'll keep it if you don't want it."

Turing toward his brothers Forrest looked around the room, there were the usual evening customers playing cards and drinking… paying him no mind. That's when it struck him that it was dark outside. Brows low he closed the distance to the bar to find a half-eaten pie and three small boxes, one with each of the brother's names scribbled on top. Lifting the lid of his respective box he found it stuffed with cookies.

Grey eyes darted to the brothers and Jack answered, "She made the cookies, Bertha made the pie."

Picking up what looked like a snickerdoodle he took a cautious bite then the scowl fell right off his face. They were his mamma's recipe and damn good.

"You are a shocked as we were…" Howard chuckled reaching for a cookie from Forrest's box only to have his hand slapped away. "Specially considering that woman could hardly fry an egg and toast bread."

* * *

Leaving Franklin for a few days could not have come at a better time. Charlie had blundered badly with Forrest and was determined now to stop all her foolishness. Chicago gave her an opportunity to reset. The train ride had been comfortable enough but nothing compared to the luxury of the room she'd booked at the Drake Hotel.

After a long soak in the clawfoot tub and a lazy afternoon nap she sat at the dressing table while one of the hotels lady's maids set and styled her hair. The pretty brunette had kept up a constant string of news as her expert fingers manuvered Charlie's hair into what was considered to be the height of Chicago fashion. It had more body than she was accustomed to and the more she looked at it the prettier she felt. It didn't hurt that the sweet young woman kept up a river of complements, all part of the job no doubt, but nice to hear anyway.

"Tell me Kathy," Charlie asked grinning. "Anyone interesting come into the hotel lately?" It was an old trick she'd used many times over the years to find out the dark dealings… which of course hotel staff always wanted to whisper about.

"We get the usual Chicago crowd here," Kathy's lips were full of hair pins as she worked and gossiped. "Floyd Banner and his boys tend to lurk… Capone keeps his distance preferring the north side. Occasionally Bugs come through but his been in jail for a while now, only just got out a few weeks back."

So this was Floyd's territory, he'd grown more powerful since Bugs Moran was in lockup.

"Can you turn and face me please ma'am?"

Charlie liked the sound of her voice, liked the girl in general with her soft demeanor. There was a lot of competition in the city for a job like this and Charlie was going to make sure management knew the maid had done a wonderful job.

Quick fingers applied cosmetics, using far more color and rouge then Charlie had ever tried. Brows were penciled in the way all the more fashionable woman did, false eyelashes, and of course red lips. When it was finished she barely recognized herself. "Wow…" was all she could manage.

Standing, her dressing gown was removed and with extreme care not to smudge her face or muss her hair Miss Kathy lowered the glowing satin over Charlie's upstretched arms, literally reaching into the dress to adjust her breasts and tuck everything where it belonged.

The cloth felt like butter on her skin, clinging to each curve yet modestly draped over her bosom. The length of her spine and the creamy soft skin of her back were on display, framed by two rhinestones encrusted panels at the fabrics edge. The detailed maid helped her step into her heels and looked up with a wide grin. "You look just like those woman in the pictures Miss Elliot. Your sweetheart is going to be knocked right out of his socks when he gets a load of you in this dress."

Charlie smiled. "I'm meeting family for dinner."

"That's a waste…" With a wink in her hazel eyes and a toss of brown hair the maid teased, "Maybe you'll meet a nice man on the dance floor then."

Charlie laughed knowing any man who saw her dancing would probably go running for the hills, "Thank you."

Standing prim and proper Kathy waited. "What time would you like me to return to help you undress?"

"There is no need for that." Reaching into her purse Charlie pulled out five dollars and handed it to the girl. "I can undress myself."

"But ma'am," the girl argued eyes wide at the amount of money that had just been pressed into her hands. "This is too much."

"Take it and enjoy yourself." With one last grin Charlie told her to scoot and thanked her again for her hard work.

Once the door was closed Charlie moved her pistol to her evening bag and leaned the rifle she'd tucked under the bed against the wall, where she could grab it quickly when she came back to the room. Chicago was not a safe city for anyone… and with a convoluted past like her she understood that point better than most.

Her own beaded wrap was placed around naked shoulders before Charlie headed down to the lobby, heels clicking against the marble she walked though opulent decadence. Everything was gilded and bathed in warm light from the sumptuous crystal chandeliers to the walls, tables, sprays of flowers… the Drake Hotel lived up to its reputation.

Men and woman dressed in their finest milled about, filling the air with the soft music of conversation but through the crowd Charlie spotted them almost at once. They were, due to Martha no doubt, five minutes early. That woman had always been a stickler for time. The thought now made her chuckle as she swept closer to see the petite wife of Floyd Banner. Martha elegantly attire in a blue velvet gown that made her dark hair shine in contrast stood beautiful next to the tuxedoed crime lynchpin, like king and queen of the walk surrounded by their court.

The older woman's eyes passed right over her and Charlie wondered if she'd forgotten she was blonde, when in fact Martha was the one who helped her blacken her hair once a week until she was seventeen and ran away. Floyd's eyes had caught her right off the bat and watched with a cocky self-assurance as his Blackbird emerged from the crowd, smiling warmly at his wife.

"She's right in front of ya toots," He mumbled down to the curled mahogany hair of his wife whose head was still sweeping back and forth.

"It's been a long time Martha," Charlie stammered, looking over every detail of a face she knew well. Martha had taken good care of herself and had hardly aged a bit, high cheekbones and thin eyebrows over warm chocolate brown eyes. "You look exactly as I remember."

The woman's jaw practically hit the floor when the elegantly attired blonde spoke. Eyes bulging out of her skull she looked at what had once been a skinny bruised up child to find a sinfully beautiful woman. "Dear god! I would never have recognized you in a million years." It was said as Charlie was tugged forward and engulfed in thin strong arms. Not being able to recall the last time someone hugged her Charlie was a little stiff but melted over time as Martha continued to babble until the last phrase embarrassed the hell out of her… "And you have breasts."

Floyd coughed to cover his laugh, and heard his men snickering behind him. His wife had always said exactly what was on her mind.

"Ummm, yes." Charlie managed, blushing as she was set free from the embrace. Charlotte passed forward the pretty pastry box she'd filled with cookies. "I made these for you."

Peeking inside Martha smiled, snickerdoodles had always been her favorite. She thanked the girl then handed to box to one of the men behind her, making it clear if any of them ate even one they would answer to her.

Glancing past her hosts Charlie counted six of Floyd's men, Tommy and Gummy Walsh amongst them. Most faces she knew from the old days. Tommy nodded suavely, complementing, "You look very beautiful in that dress Lottie."

Floyd offered his wife his arm but she batted him away ignoring her husband to link arms with Charlie, tugging her toward the ballroom where a table was waiting for them. A big band was assembled onstage already performing for the elite collection of Chicago's finest as the party was shown to the best tables the venue could offer. The dance floor was only steps away, centered as they were in their plush circular red velvet booth. Floyd's goons took the table beside them but as they were seated Tommy sat with their party, sliding in the booth next to Charlie.

Basically ignoring him she leaned closer and continued to chat, well listen mostly, to Mrs. Banner share all the Chicago gossip.

"So Lottie," Floyd said after popping open a bottle of champagne, "You're Martha's niece should anyone ask."

"Awwww." A Charlie batted her eyelashes and took the proffered glass of champagne. "You made me family."

That infamous wicked grin she knew so well from childhood played on his handsome face, "I did kid. It should help keep you out of trouble."

"Doubtful," her own dark smile teased back. "You must want something."

"I don't remember you being so mouthy as a kid…" Tommy added, leaning back against the soft cushion with his arm draped across the top of the seat at her back, smiling at her.

"I just didn't like you is all," she sipped her champagne. "You were a little prick."

"Charlotte!" Martha slapped her on the arm. "That's not how a lady talks."

The sting on her arm brought back the memory of the dozens of times Martha had smacked her over the years for mouthing off. Laughing she looked to the woman and apologized, trying not to snort when Floyd just winked at her.

"Come on then Lottie," Running a hand over his thick slicked back brown hair Tommy climbed from the seat and offered a hand. "Let start over. Have a dance with me."

"I should warn you," she made a wry face but took his hand anyway, "I don't know how to dance."

There was nothing better she could have said. "Not a problem little girl, I am a strong leader."

And he was. He took her through the simple steps and kept his hand firm on her waist, leading her with subtle cues as she grinned. When she stepped on his foot for the third or fourth time he rolled his eyes and teased, "You may as well climb up on my feet and let me do all the work."

Not one to back down from a taunt she put her toes on his, let him pull her closer, and burst out with laughter as he waltzed her round the floor. When the song hit its zenith and erupted in a final explosion of sound he leaned her back, dipping her low to the floor as she laughed and laughed. Strong arms pulled her up, his dark eyes taking in the grin plastered on her beautiful lips. A small piece of hair had come free of the style. Reaching his fingers to her face he repaired her appearance, eyes warm as they touched her hair. "I'm glad you wore the dress I sent you."

Charlie stepped back, her smile diminishing. She thought the Banners had sent the gown. "I think I have danced enough."

His palm came to rest on her bare lower back and led her through the crowd, a smug smirk on his face at the jealous looks the rest of the gang were sending his way. Martha was off at the powder room leaving Charlie alone with Floyd When the gangster waved Tommy away.

"So just what the hell have you been doing all these years?" Floyd asked striking a match to light a cigarette.

She knew the question was inevitable. "This and that… I also kept my eye on you when I was in town."

"Yeah?" he shook the match and his steady penetrating eyes fell on her with no hint of a smile.

"Yeah," She cocked her head. "October 1929 at Cicero… did you think those bullets magically fell from the sky to take out Capone's men when they had your cornered?"

"I should have known it was my little Blackbird …" a dark smile was pulling on his lips. "Why did you run off?"

"I think you know why." She would not discuss it. Charlie had left him a hastily scrawled letter saying goodbye, one for Martha too. It was all she could do before she took her mamma and started a new life once it was clear some of the men were starting to notice… irregularities… about her.

"Guess I do." Floyd Banner didn't get where he was by being a stupid man. A puff of smoke blew out of his lungs, "Damn good to have you back though."

Her voice grew deadly as she leaned across the table to meet her old mentor's gaze dead on, "I'm retired Floyd. Prohibition in coming to an end soon and there is no way in hell I will be involved with any of the other works the mobsters of Chicago have their eye on. I'm tired of all that shit."

For just a hint of a second his eyes held a trace of pity, "I know you are kid."

"Then let me live in peace."

"I know you Blackbird… You'll get bored of it, the quiet life." the cigarette was dangling from his lips. "Settle down here, keep one toe in the action. Get married have some kids…"

A hint of an amused smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Men are not going to line up to marry the bastard daughter of Ronnie Pearson and a mad whore."

"No," he shrugged, blue eyes watching her closely, "But they will want to marry the kin of Floyd Banner." That dangerous grin was back, "Doesn't hurt that you grew up beautiful neither."

"Floyd, give me a break. Do you really think I would take orders from some man…? Especially some gangster? I would probably end up killing the poor guy and hanging."

"You took orders from me for years." He was teasing, looking at her with something akin to pride.

She smiled, her face warm again. "That was different. I love you."

"You were a good kid." He nodded.

She knew where she stood. "You're only sayin that cause I'm a dead shot with a gun."

"It didn't hurt."

They both started laughing just as Martha returned.

"I think I will take a powder," Charlie said with a smile, edging out of her seat with her purse in hand.

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He'd managed to find a quite spot at the crowded bar that ran the length of the ballroom. Steady eyes took in every face as he sipped whiskey and puffed on his cigar. What he saw was the same he'd seen at any watering hole, rich or poor when liquor flowed laughter and desire blended with violence, only here the players were all dressed in fancy clothes and wearing perfume.

From the angle he was spying narrowed eyes locked on the woman's back, catching glimpses of her profile when she turned to speak. The chiseled face of the clean shaven man at her side almost constantly turned her direction, his eyes drinking in all the milky glowing skin. He wanted to rip the pretty boy's goddamn head off the moment he saw that bastard smiling at her, wearing that leer of a man thinking one thing. The crystal tumbler was back at his lips, ice clanking in the glass. He'd watched her dance, smiling as she stumbled then moved a bit more confidently over the minutes. She glowed, laughed, and let the seducing man pull her close to waltz, bodies touching until he bent her back over his arm like some goddamn prince charming.

When the song was over, when she came up from the dip, the fellow had said something to her that shut her down, gave her that cagy look Forrest knew so well he almost smirked. Taking her seat the golden girl edged close to Floyd and it looked like the moment everyone had been anticipating had come to pass. Watching in case she needed him grey eyes locked on until someone moved into his line of sight and a voice he never thought he'd hear again in his life filled his ears.

It was that same sultry and timid tone, dulcet and warm. "Forrest. What are you doing here?"

His head did not move but his eyes darted up under low brows. Maggie, just as beautiful as the first time he'd seen her, stood in a sequined short dresses the cocktail waitresses and dancers working the room sported. Jesus H. Christ.

"Did you come to Chicago to see me?" The way she said it, they layers of desire and want darkened her expression. Her painted lips gave him that same ol' warm smirk.

"Uhh, didn't know you worked here Maggie," he stammered as he leaned a little to the side to see his golden girl still sitting alone with Banner. She'd taken on the more assertive stance Charlie favored when argumentative, meeting the larger than life gangster's eyes without a moment of hesitation. It was clear at the onset she was not pleased with Banner's words. They seemed to be debating in their fashion, her face growing dark and Banner smug and smirking as he smoked.

Mistaking his response for shyness a warm familiar hand came to his cheek, stroking the freshly shaved skin. "I never thought I would see you again Forrest and here you are. Hey," she waited for him to look her in the eyes. She smiled when he did, red curls framed her painted face. "My shift ends in an hour. Stick around and I'll take you to the best place in the city for coffee."

His answer was a noncommittal grunt, relieved to see her go and wondering why his heart was pounding so hard in his chest as she flitted through the crowd. Watching Maggie retreat, her dress glittering from the sequence of her uniform he almost missed Charlotte as she walked up the steps toward where he perched, clearly on her way to the powder room.

Standing from the seat he'd been leaning on he locked his eyes on her, the way the satin of her almost golden gown flowed over her skin, showing every line of her body, the shape of her thigh, was alluring. It was impossible to miss the hungry stares men were throwing at her. Forrest's hands fisted, knuckles cracking, ready to strike if anyone touched her. Once she made her way up the short stairs her eyes looked up and by some goddamn miracle landed right on him in the crowd.

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**I hope you enjoyed the beginning of our time in Chicago. Please Review.**

**In answer to Guest x's question: Have you already got an idea as to which direction your story is going? Or is it all falling into place as you write? -I actually do not start posting a story until I have already finished writing it or it is almost complete. I wrote WANTED in three weeks after I finished Vengeance and needed a new project. Of course I do make some changes as I prepare the chapters to post and do my best to edit grammar and spelling mistakes (though that is not my strong point, lol). And thank you Guest X for the very kind reviews!**


	8. Chapter 7

**I am so grateful for the reviews: AvalonTheLadyKiller, marulk, Guest X and mystery guest. THANK YOU!**

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**Chapter 7**

Charlie blinked twice as if not believing what stood before her. Forrest Bondurant, dressed in a fine suit, clean shaven, and more handsome then she could say was standing boldly amongst the snobby Chicago masses as if his presence was the most natural thing in the world.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Charlie slipped into the crowd at the bar to stand before him leaning in close so he could hear her over the din.

His mouth, that same mouth that had been on her only two days ago formed the words, "I'm here to keep an eye on you."

Realizing she'd been gawking at those full lips she looked back to his stormy grey eyes and demanded, "Why? Did you think I was going to muck up your deal with Banner?"

How on earth would she have possible come to that conclusion? "Course not." He cleared his throat, wishing he could loosen the damn tie. "Chicago ain't safe, even for a woman like you"

That didn't make any sense.

Charlie crossed her arms over her chest and raked over his appearance. Never in a million years had she thought she might get a glimpse of a man like Forrest Bondurant dressed in a fine three piece suit worthy of Floyd Banner himself. Glowing sapphire eyes ran up from the shined shoes, over the pleated trousers, the fully buttoned vest, and broad shouldered jacket. His tie was a little askew, so charming that she did not want to fix it. After a huff of breath her hands moved to her hips. "So you followed me here from Franklin?"

He said it slowly, breaking the phrasing apart as he looked over her face. "Dropped off a shipment earlier, figured I would stick around in case you might need me."

One painted eyebrow cocked snidely and the corner of her lip curled just a little.

She was clearly about to lose her temper. Unsure what possessed him Forrest reached out a hand and slowly ran the back of his fingers from her bare shoulder down her arm to sooth her. The golden head turned as she followed his touch with her eye and Charlie's demeanor shifted from suspicious to instantly calm. In seconds he had her quiet and her face soft as she watched his knuckles skim her skin, enraptured with the way heat passed from his strong fingers to her suddenly tingling flesh.

"When your dinner is over I will see you to your door." His hand changed direction, palm flat as he traced back up over soft silky skin. She nodded mutely, mesmerized by the sensations he'd fostered in her arm until he stopped and left her staring at the place where his hand had been.

Energies were moving under her skin, that insatiable heat… she could feel her chest rise and fall quickly and her lips part. Suddenly even the thin dress was too much clothing, she wanted it off, wanted his hand back on her. Fingers came to her chin, tilting her head up to face him. "Best get back to your party now."

Charlie almost stumbled as she backed away from the magnetism that had drawn her in, made her lose focus in a full of room of dangerous men. Rushing to the powder room she caught her face in the mirror and saw the flush, the swollen fullness of her lips that craved what he'd given her before, wanted to taste the whiskey and sweet cigar she'd smelled on his breath. By the time she was seated back at the table dinner was served, lobster salad and chilled cream potatoes. Martha was smiling at her, asking all sorts of questions as they ate.

"Have you found yourself a man Charlotte?" Brown eyes twinkled mischievously.

"No Ma'am, I'm a spinster," Charlie teasing back as she took another bite of her meal. "Besides I can't cook, or sew… don't know a thing about babies."

Martha leaned closer and gave her a secret smile. "A good man won't really care about the trivial skills so long as you work hard in other areas."

Charlie's face could not have grown more red and knowing full well what Martha had been teasing her about Tommy chimed in, "You doing alright there Lottie, you're looking a little flushed."

"You look mighty fine sitting next to Tommy." The woman just wouldn't stop. "Make quite the handsome pair."

Voice sharp Charlie snorted with an edge of mocking, "Don't go putting any fool ideas into his head Martha. I am fully aware of the reputation the man sitting at my side carries…" Sapphire eyes darted to his, noting his cocky grin, "Seen him many times over the years with his menagerie of women."

"But not one of them could hold a candle to you." He mumbled leaning closer and quickly pressed a kiss on her pink cheek.

"Tommy," Charlie grit her teeth and looked right at the mobster, "I do have a gun in my purse."

Floyd Banner burst out laughing, his hand smacking the table, "Boy you're gonna have to try a lot harder than that if you want to catch my Blackbird's eye."

Tommy seemed willing to rise to the challenge but mellowed the flirting, recognizing at once he would need a different approach to woo the woman glowing and sweet smelling at his side. When the dinner concluded and the party began to move out of the ballroom Charlie's eyes darted to the bar but found that Forrest was gone. Disappointment stabbed her gut when she saw neither hide nor hair of him and wondered if he had changed his mind.

Once in the hotel lobby Martha embraced Charlie, engulfing her in the mink coat wrapped around her shoulders by her husband moments before. The softness of the fur brushed her bare arms and throat and Charlie hugged her back with a promise to visit as often as she could, whispering her thanks for the years of care the woman had shown her as a child. Martha demanded she return for Christmas then said adieu. When the time came to say a proper goodbye to Floyd he pulled her into a fatherly hug, patting her back before releasing her and waiting for the customary kiss on the cheek. "Now you better scurry off before your guard dog starts to growl Lottie."

Her brows arched, "Guard dog?"

Floyd cocked his head and Charlie glanced over her shoulder to see Forrest leaning on a distant pillar, making his presence known.

"Looks like you've some competition Tommy." With one final hug Floyd whispered in her ear, "Don't answer the door should anyone come knocking tonight."

Charlie leaned back just far enough to look him dead in the eye. She understood perfectly and nodded, her eyes hard. The Banner contingent left, Charlie waving as their fine cars drove off into the night. Letting out a sigh as the sound of the engines faded Charlie noticed that the room and all the hotel patrons had been watching the exchange. Scanning the room under pretense of adjusting her wrap she noticed the quick darted glances and murmurs those who were brave enough to watch her little group's goodbye were muttering.

With new energy Charlie turned toward where Forrest waited and began to close the distance of the vast lobby, sapphire blue eyes locked on grey. He stood straight from where he'd been leaning and felt the draw as the golden girl came closer, smiling at him with her pretty red lips and thanked the stars he'd bought the fine new suit and come after her.

"There you are Forrest." Out of nowhere a warm hand stroke down his arm. "Ready to get that cup of coffee now?"

Maggie had found him, her familiar red coat covering the costume as she smiled up at him as if he were the only man in the world. She looked so damn pleased to see him, blue eyes all soft and glowing like they had been when they used to glance his way over the bar a year past.

Charlie's steps did not falter but the nature of her smile went from inviting to polite when she beheld the familiar woman stroking Forrest's arm. How could she have been so stupid? Of course Forrest was here to secretly visit his sweetheart. He knew she was an unnatural woman, the things she'd done… she'd been deluding herself. When the grey eyes darted to Charlie's face she offered a soft nod and simply moved past them unwilling to interrupt their time together and humiliate herself further…

Quickly she left the main lobby and passed the bell desk. Halfway toward the elevator she felt a hand on her arm, "Really Forrest, it's okay. Take your sweetheart out. I can see myself upstairs."

"Maggie ain't my sweetheart." He grunted behind her, lightly tugging her arm so she'd hold still for a damn second and not make him chase her. "I, uhh…"

"Miss!" The night manager was rushing toward them. "Ahhh, Miss Elliot." A painted smile stretched his thin face. "Excuse me for interrupting." He offered a hand and Charlie took it confused. "You should have informed us you were family to our illustrious Mr. Banner."

"Keep your goddamn voice down," Forrest barked aware that the foolish manager's outburst had just drawn more unwanted attention from the men and woman milling about that corner of the hotel.

"Ah, yes." He whispered as if a part of some conspiracy. "I just wanted to inform you that your room is on us… and please, stay at the Drake whenever you are in town. Also," He looked so proud of himself, "I personally had a bottle of champagne and light refreshment set up in your room. Enjoy with our complements."

"That's very kind of you Mr.?"

"George Parks. At your service ma'am."

Forrest put a hand on the greasy manager's chest and pushed him back a step, growling as he did it, knowing Mr. Parks was bothering the golden girl. Placing his warm palm on the dip of Charlie's lower back, the same place he's seen that other man touch her, Forrest led her toward the elevator leaving a shocked Maggie who'd chased after him when he up and bolted and an offended Mr. Parks in his wake.

It wasn't fair. Forrest kept that warm hand on her back, touching her skin the whole ride to the 22nd floor. It never faltered, its heat and pressure constant as he led her to her door. She was trying so hard not to act like a fool, realizing Maggie was waiting for the man just downstairs, but utterly distracted by the simple touch of his hand… mind replaying that moment earlier when he'd brushed her arm and the kiss just two mornings back.

Absentminded she fumbled for her key. Turning the lock and with a friendly smile hiding her confused feelings she said goodbye over her shoulder, "Thank you for the escort, I hope you have fun with Maggie. Best not keep the girl waiting too long." As it was spoken she turned to face him and offered a friendly hand, eager to have him touch her one last time even if it was only to shake her hand.

He was looking at her in the way again, glaring or just intensely staring and he looked mad. "Maggie ain't my woman Charlotte. I didn't even know she was here."

"Oh." She was confused again. "Then wh-"

In a flash strong arms wrapped around her as Forrest gave a hungry growl, enveloping Charlie until she was flush up against him. Warm firm lips worked over her mouth as his hands stroked the naked flesh of her lower back before fisting the fabric of her dress to pull her as close to his body as he possibly could. The flare of energy was back, making her whimper and instinctively reach around his neck. The door opened behind her and he walked them out of the hall away from any potential prying eyes and backed her into the room, kicking the door shut.

Leaning back she commanded breathless, "lock it," before standing on her toes to once again reach that delicious mouth. The sound of the lock engaging clicked and they began to move further into the room. He knew it was wrong to be alone with her in a hotel room, knew he should not be touching her as he was but was powerless to stop it. Once he'd seen that pretty boy Tommy kiss her cheek at the table he'd seen red. No one got to touch her but him. Calloused fingertips were moving up and down her spine as his tongue boldly moved past her lips to taste her. Forrest let out an animal groan when her lips parted to him and her soft tongue met his, timidly urging him on, inviting him in.

Something primal had taken over his senses once he tasted the honey of her mouth. Gripping the rhinestone edges of her dress he pulled, slinking the straps down her shoulders to the breasts he knew were soft and free underneath. It slid down in a whisper, the fabric catching on her hard rosey nipples and making her moan into his mouth before he grabbed the full pleasing flesh and her whimper became something much more wanton. His mouth left hers and kissed her jaw, her neck, took a deep breath of her before slowly making his way to those soft full peaks.

Her breath caught when his lips and the heat of his mouth suckled her. Her hands were in his hair as she arched against his mouth and that devil's tongue twisted around the sensitive flesh until she was trembling so hard she thought her knees might give in. He moved to her other breast and the fingers of his hand toyed with the wet nipple he'd left free to grow cold in the air, plucking it taunt until she could not stand another minute.

"This goddamn dress," He mumbled, his hand lifting her skirt to find silky stockings fastened to her garter belt until he palmed the silk covered roundness of her rear. Somehow he got her on the bed, the skirt up to her waist, pooling cool satin against her. Pushing the top of her gown down further fingertips skimmed the velvet skin of her belly, found the scar from the bullet wound then passed over the fabric of her scrunched up skirt to palm the heat between her legs, making her gasp and spread for him.

No man had ever touched her like this, made her feel these things. Her breasts ached for him to stroke them again but if he moved the hand that was skimming over her drawers she would scream… and just about did when his fingers brushed over the apex of her sex causing wetness to saturate the silk and her eyes to roll back in her head.

The sudden knock on the door made her freeze and want to snarl. He was motionless above her realizing something had made her tense and looked to the door with an expression of outright temper.

"Room Service," a chipper voice announced. "Champagne, complements of the house."

Charlie looked across the space and found the afore mentioned bottle of champagne was already in place, as was a tray of bite sized desserts. Half naked with a growling man on top of her she tried to control her breathing before answering in a friendly voice, "No thank you. Tell the night Manager _Mr. Wolfe_ I am all set."

"But Mr. Wolfe sent this up personal ma'am. If I take it back he won't think I did my job." The muffled voice persisted through the wood.

Hearing the incorrect manager's name Forrest moved off of her, removed his coat and slipped on the brass knuckles from his pocket, all the while his eyes locked on the uncovered flesh of the golden girl splayed across the bed. Charlie sat up, adjusting the straps of her gown to covering her sensitive breasts and reached for the riffle leaning against the nearby wall.

"Run along now," Charlie warned, the friendliness of her voice diminishing, "It ain't seemly to pester a woman this late in the evening."

"Open the door…" The very nature of the man's tone shifted to menace.

And Forrest did just that, coming out swinging at the two bit thug waiting on the other side. A loud crack came as the bone of the man's nose was broken. The thug stumbled back, dropping the knife clutched in his fist before he blacked out.

"Well I'll be damned Forrest," Charlie muttered behind him aiming her riffle at the crumpled goon. "That was one hell of a punch."

Forrest was still, standing between her and the would-be assailant so motionless it was clear he was ready to snap. Charlie's eyes went back to the thug, and took in his bloody face, knowing full well who he worked for. The goon sputtered and started to come around.

"You come here to harm this woman?" Forrest asked, voice deadly as he leaned over the crumpled body of a man Charlie knew was called Whittaker.

"Mr. Whittaker here works for Bugs Moran." She explained, unimpressed with the man at her feet. "Don't you?"

"I wasn't told to kill her, just…"

"Show me a good time?" Charlie spoke low and deadly, the weight of her foot settling between the man's legs, slowly crushing his balls. "Send a little message to Banner?"

The man squealed and gagged, trying to retreat from her foot and the pain of her pulverizing his manly area.

A deep throated growl was reverberating through Forrest throat as he kneeled over the goon. "Charlotte, step back into the room." His voice was utter menace.

"I can't do that Forrest," She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder when he tensed, "As much as I would personally like to assure this piece of shit has to sit to piss for the rest of his short life we have to hand him over to Banner." Her warm fingertips were brushing the exposed skin between his hairline and the collar of his shirt, running over the vertebrae and instinctively calming him. "This is not Franklin. The rules are different here and I won't see you get caught up in Chicago's filth." The butt of her riffle descended and cracked against the pleading goon's forehead, sending the gangster back to la-la-land.

Two men came around the hall and instantly Forrest rose up to shield Charlotte with his body, His broad back keeping her out of sight. Tommy and one of Floyd's burly underlings took sight of the seething country boy and caught a glimpse of Charlie's satin skirt peeking out from behind him.

Rushing forward to find Whittaker out cold Tommy asked the woman peeking out, "You alright Lottie?"

"Of course I'm alright!" Charlie snarled moving from behind Forrest.

"Boss thought we should check that you got up to your room safe and sound" It was a lie, pure and simple. Charlie could spot one a mile away and so could Forrest. She'd been bait.

"You knew Bugs had men here tonight?" Forrest asked, tone dangerous as he cocked his head to the side. "You knew this woman might be in danger?"

"Floyd told her NOT to open her door," Tommy argued motioning for his brawny partner to lift the body.

"Now I don't know how you men do things in Chicago," Forrest flourished the bloody fingers still bearing his brass knuckles as he spoke in his soft drawl, "but endangering a woman where I come from is only done by raw cowards. And here you are sauntering up like a goddamn hero bout five minutes too late. She could have been hurt. That man there," Forrest pointed to the crumped form hanging from Tommy's sidekick's shoulder, "had plans for her."

"If he'd made it inside she would have shot him," Tommy sneered, "Blackbird never misses."

"Ohhh," Forrest sounded mockingly amused, his voice smooth as he tore down the man, "And you'd just let her do your dirty work for you huh?" Taking Charlie by the elbow he pushed her through her door of her room, glaring at the gangsters staring bloody daggers at him. "Get that son of a bitch out of here and tell Floyd Banner Forrest Bondurant sends his regards."

Forrest shut the door behind him and locked it. Charlotte was standing at the center of the room, her rifle hanging from one hand, staring at him dumbly. No man had ever stood up for her, made her sound like something to be protected… part of her was warm, feeling cared for… part of her was furious he thought she needed his help. Tommy was right, she could have handled Whitaker alone no problem… but Forrest was also correct, she should never have had to.

Steeping toward her, his moody scowl low over the intensity of his stare, Forrest took the rifle from her slack fingers and set it aside. Pulling out his handkerchief he wiped the blood from his brass knuckles and his hand, darting glances at her from the corner of his eye as he made quick work of it. Sapphire eyes were watching him, looking almost confused as she continued her silence.

"You ever been hit so hard the world spins and for a few moments you have no idea what the hell is going on?" She finally asked watching the blood disappear from his hands. "That's how I feel right now."

"Floyd's men shouldn't have put you in that position."

"I used to be one of Floyd's men Forrest… they don't look at me the way you do." Once she said it her color rose, implying that he might look at her… in a special way. Stammering she added, "I mean…"

"Hush now." He was standing before her again, looking down into her eyes. "Do you want me to stay with you tonight? I can sleep in that chair… keep an eye out."

Her mind clicked back on and with a wry grin she gave an airy laugh, "Forrest Bondurant I don't even know where to begin…" her fingertips went to her lips as she looked over the boyish eagerness she was now seeing under the scowl. "Where did you find lodgings?"

"Fleet street, Wayside Inn." He grunted.

"You lookin to get your throat cut?" She had to suppress a chuckle once he gave her a dark glare, "Perhaps that wasn't the best phrasing… but Forrest, that place is in the middle of one of the worst neighborhoods in the city. You better stay here for both our sakes. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt on some foolhardy mission to look after me."

"You need lookin after," he argued, taking her shoulders in his hand and trying not to shake sense into her.

"Not as much as you do." Her voice and eyes were soft, as silken as her dress. "Looks like someone needs to take care of you for once." Standing on her toes she kissed him, it was chaste and the first time she'd initiated intimate contact between them.

The stirring in his chest at her words was the only thing that kept him from throwing her back on the bed to continue what had been the most intense kissin of his life. Had they not been interrupted he would have been inside her, ruttin away before she knew what hit her. "Uhhh," he swallowed when she pulled back. "You best not be doing that Charlotte."

"Why?" it was whispered against his mouth, her sweet breath running across his cheek.

He grunted, and shifted his weight, feeling his cock once again straining to be free of his britches. "Dressed like that, smellin like you do… I, uhh… You're making it difficult."

"Was that a complement Forrest?" It was asked shyly as her eyes looked down to the new crisp white shirt under his waistcoat.

He swallowed thickly. "You look more beautiful tonight than any woman has a right to."

She did not look up into his eyes, blushing as she began to softly grin and glow. Staring coyly at his tie she shyly added, "Now that was a complement if I ever did hear one." Charlie pressed another quick kiss to his full lips and skirted around him toward the tray of desserts the night manager had left waiting. Innocently she offered, "You want something sweet?"

More than he could possibly say.

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**Awwwww, aren't they cute? Please Review and make my day. :)**


	9. Chapter 8

**Shout out for the encouragement and support from: AvalonTheLadyKiller and GuestX. I really appreciate it guys! THANK YOU.**

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**Chapter 8**

Her hair was still curled, a little fluffed as it spread across the white cotton pillowcase. Lips gently parted she lay on her back taking up the full space of the bed with her sprawling. He'd woken about fifteen minutes prior, a wicked crick in his neck from sleeping upright in the chair across the room. Her riffle was across his lap, a damn fine weapon he'd seen her use with precision the year prior. Tommy was right by all accounts from what he'd personally seen her do with that gun, Charlotte Elliot didn't miss.

Watching her breath, that peaceful look on her face made the pain in his neck seem lesser. After the excitement the night before Charlie had gone to the bathroom to shed her dress, emerging in a nightgown and dressing robe tied and closed up to her neck. The alluring cosmetics had been washed away, she was fresh faced and still so got-dang beautiful he tried not to look right at her. His mission had been unsuccessful as his eyes kept darting her direction. Siting on the edge of the bed she bounced a little, eating a tiny slice of cheesecake, gobbling it up like child.

"Have you ever had this?" Mouth full she asked. "Really Forrest, you gotta try it." She practically shoved the dessert in his face until he gave in and took a bite, watching her lick her fingers clean, so caught up in that little pink tongue that he hardly tasted anything at all.

After climbing under the covers Charlie yawned and nodded toward the other side of the bed. "There is no need for you to sleep in that chair. We've shared a bed before and I promise not to kick you.

There was no way in earth he could stand after her show with the cheesecake, his pole ridged as a tree branch and jutting from his body so hard she would surely see it. If he climbed in that bed, no matter his good intentions… he would not be able to keep his hands or his cock to himself. Distance was best. Forrest simply made a throat noise and put the rifle on his knee, shifting his gaze toward the door.

Charlie had fallen asleep quickly, Forrest had not been given the same reprieve. After taking off his tie and loosening his shirt he sat back and watched her face secretly in the dark. She seemed to take the night in stride where he, no matter how stoic on the outside, was boiling internally. Her reaction, it was as if she had expected Floyd to pull something like that. She had faith in the gangster and clearly he had faith in her. The affection Floyd had shown in over dinner was genuine, no matter how dark hearted the infamous kingpin. Problem was, he saw Charlotte as that same little boy who'd done god only knows what in his service. Treated her almost like a man.

Movement came from Charlie as she woke with a stretch and a purr, a well-rested house cat.

"What did Banner want from you last night?" Forrest asked abruptly as her eyes began to blink in the sunlight.

"What?" the word was distorted by a yawn.

He tried to sound patient but it came out cantankerous, "Floyd Banner… What does he want from you?"

Sitting up with mussed hair, the dressing robe she'd worn to bed hanging open a bit to display a portion of her silk covered bosom she shrugged, "We came to an understanding that I am out of the game." Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she added, "I think he, I don't know… wants me to marry. I told him plain as day that no one would be fool enough to tie their family to a bastard… the daughter of The Slasher and my insane mother no less but he said men would want the kin of Floyd Banner. Not sure if he has ulterior motives there or if he was just offering a kindness. He was like a father… well, peculiar father figure to me."

"You ain't marrying no gangster to forge some alliance for him," Forrest almost barked it.

Surprised she looked at him with a startled expression and met stormy grey eyes glaring at her in heat. "I had not even considered that might be his motivation. I would not put it past him to try though." Her leg slipped out from under the covers, momentarily bare before the silk of her gown fell past her knee. It would make sense why Tommy had been at their table. If Floyd was looking to take him as his successor then a marriage of his "blood" to that jerk would solidify a union and make sure Tommy stayed loyal as his power grew. Charlie snorted, she may have been fool enough to have a crush on that boy at thirteen but now he was beneath her notice… a scumbag despite his pretty face.

"You should gather your things from the Wayside and bring them here before someone robs you." Her arms were stretched above her as she groaned and felt her back realign. "I'm going to take bath…" Like a zombie she walked past him and shut the bathroom door.

When she emerged from the long hot soak she found Forrest curled up under the covers like a little boy in the spot she'd been sleeping in. He looked so cute, scowling a little in sleep, that she did her best not to wake him. Dressing quickly she grabbed her purse and made her way to the Wayside Inn alone, found Forrest's room, grabbed his things, and made sure nothing had been left behind before checking him out. Back at the hotel she hung up his coat and set his suitcase on the stand next to hers. Picking up the book she borrowed from Jack Charlie curled up in the chair and read the rest of _The Great Gatsby_, tossing the book aside in disgust at the ending and muttering, "What a horrible woman."

"Who?" Forrest muttered, voice husky from sleep.

"Daisy Buchanan," Charlie explained watching him wake up and rub his face. "She is the romantic interest in that book I borrowed from Jack. A man is desperately in love with her, fashions his life to please her to excessive amounts… They had been lovers before he went off to war… Anyway, he comes home to find her married to a famous millionaire who is self-serving, cocky, and has a woman on the side... and she ain't no better. In the end she chooses the wrong man for social status instead of the one who really loves her."

Forrest simply grunted and Charlie was certain he had not really heard a word she'd said. Laughing softly to herself she slunk from the chair and climbed to lay on top of the covers next to him, not touching but near enough to admire his profile and lightly stubbled cheek. When his hand fell from his eyes he glanced at her on the bed beside him and fractionally raised a brow, looking surprised with her boldness but contented and pleased. With a grumble he turned to face her, wrapped an arm about her waist and tucked her close, closing his eyes again and enjoying the smell and feel of her.

"You know Forrest," She burrowed closer to his solid body, "You could have slept like this all night. It would not have bothered me a jot and then you would not be so tired now."

"If I'd climbed into bed with you last night we would not have been sleepin," he grumbled against her hair.

Unsure if he realized the effect words like that had on her she peeked up to see if he was watching her. Hungry sapphire eyes settled on determined grey, her cheeks blushing hotly. "And to think all this time I thought you didn't like me."

"I like you just fine," his eyes were holding hers something fierce, "that's the problem."

"Why is it a problem?" Her once soft expression showed just a hint of insecurity before she hid it from view.

He gave her a little squeeze to sooth her, running a sleepy hand down her back. "Cause I can't keep my hands to myself."

She looked both relieved and amused. So Forrest Bondurant was worried about her virtue, the idea was a little ridiculous and enduring. "I never thought I would like a man's hands on me." She blushed little, her fingers toying with the fabric of the blanket between them. "But I like yours just fine."

There was a brief growl and chocked sound in his throat as his body stilled. He heard her take a deep breath of him as her body edged unconsciously just a little bit closer. "Are you hungry?" Charlie's voice was low and husky, "Maybe we should eat."

Dear god she was going to be the death of him.

"There is a great café a few blocks down… or if you want something a bit swankier we can take brunch downstairs," she offered. "I brought your suitcase over from the Wayside and-"

He instantly growled, suddenly angry, and leaned up to glare down at her "Have you lost your fool mind?"

"Excuse me?" Her own voice darkened as her mood instantly shifted toward aggressive. "You want to repeat that?"

"Last night a man was sent to rape you and you go wondering around Chicago alone?" He growled. "So I ask you, have lost your goddamn mind?"

She went to shove him away, insulted, only to find she could not shift his mass. Huffing she answered the question, "No jackass, I have not lost my mind. Whittaker is dead… his mangled corpse front page news and Bugs made to look a fool. You don't know this city like I do. I know the beat of gangland and I am telling you that it is safer for me to move through the streets dressed as a woman than it is for a brawny out-of-towner like you, even with your intimidating reputation."

"No woman should know the things you know."

"What I know kept me and my mamma alive. If you see me as tainted for that then you… you…" She did not know what to say as she voiced her deepest fear. That lingering anxiety was there, the world would never see her whole, she was tarnished.

He drew in a deep breath watching the play of emotion on her face, unsure what to say. Jaw clenched tight he waited, letting her come to terms with what was eating at her.

"Now you listen good," He lectured, eyes one hundred percent serious. "Ain't no point in thinking you're somehow less because of your history. And if you ever tell me that I think you are tainted again I will make you regret it."

"You say one thing then you say another!" She was struggling, squirming to get out from under him. "I can hardly tell if I'm coming or going with you Forrest Bondurant! Half the time you make me feel like I'm failing at being a woman… then you touch me and I feel perfect. Make up your damn mind!"

He knew there was no right thing he could say so the answer was simple. Forrest wrapped his warm fingers around her hip, marveling at the feel of her and stroked up, over her silky blouse, skimming the side of one breast and went further still. Rough callused fingers stroked her collar bones and neck until her had her face cupped in his hand. He grunted, nodding, waiting for her to understand.

"You have to say it…" She whispered, eyes vulnerable and open to him.

He hated and adored that look in her eye, knowing he'd somehow hurt her feelings but loving that she looked at him so openly. "You are a fine woman Charlotte."

"Even though I can't cook, or sew, or garden? Even though I have killed men, swear, like to hunt, swim naked around Franklin, can't paint my right fingernails for my life… and have a temper?"

Something about her tone, the way she listed off her flaws… it was just so damn funny and before he could stop himself he cracked a tiny goddamn smile and chuckled for just a second before he got control.

"Holy shit…" Her eyes were wide as plates never believing in a million year she'd see the bastard smile. He looked so different… so carefree that she could not help but grin back, the vulnerable look in her eye transforming into astonishment.

The fingers of her free hand came up to touch his face, tracing over the brows that he released from his perpetual scowl, his eyes closed as he let her touch. They stayed like that for a while, an unspoken truce developing between them.

* * *

After they finally got around to breakfast she made it clear that she had shopping to do and that come hell or high water she was going to get it done. He escorted her, knowing she was not entirely comfortable with his presence. Hell, the last thing on earth he wanted to do was watch a woman shop… but it had turned out to be a pleasant afternoon. She didn't dally or spend hours fretting over things. She walked into shops, some of which already had her orders prepared, and made quick work of it while he waited near the door. If she was rushing on account of him she made no mention of it. Forrest remained mostly silent, watching her behavior with mild amusement and keeping a sharp eye on the city around them.

They ate caramel corn and hotdogs, she showed him some of the best places in the city and some of the most notorious. While walking back to the hotel she paused at a store front window where panels of lace and other frilly girl stuff was on display. Cocking her head she looked long and hard as if measuring something in her mind.

"What you lookin at?" Forrest grunted seeing he captivated with something for the first time since they left the hotel.

"Bertha Minnix is going to marry your brother Jack… eventually," was all she said as she continued to stare and calculate.

Forrest cleared his throat, "Yeah."

"She would look awfully pretty in that veil." Charlie added taking a step closer to the window. It was then Forrest realized she was gawking at a bridal shop. "I'm debating on if I should buy it for her as a gift."

"Best not get involved with that." He meant it sincerely.

Her head turned and she gave him a long incredulous look. "And what would you know of it Forrest?"

"Her daddy would never let her wear something that fancy." He was growing more and more uncomfortable as he spoke, swallowing visibly as Charlie gave him a devilish grin.

"That girl does not abide by what her daddy says. Good thing she's got a heap more sense than Jack or the two of them would be in trouble." Her eyes went back to the window. "I will heed your advice though… for now… and buy her that silver hair pin instead." She met his eye in the reflection of the window. "You can stay outside if you like."

Whenever she laid down a challenge in that teasing mocking tone he rose to the bait, even going so far as to open the damn door for her. Next thing he knew he was surrounded by white fluffy woman's things and wish he had the sense to take her offer. The small hair ornament was quickly wrapped and trimmed with a ribbon. They left promptly, Forrest grateful to be back in the cold winter wind and Charlotte clearly satisfied with what she purchased.

They were both wore out by the time they boarded the evening train back to Franklin. He watched her compose herself in the corner seat of their private enclosure, the purse that he knew held a rather dangerous pistol resting on her lap… she was settling in to nap and making sure if things went south she be ready to shoot. After the first hour, watching her keep waking from the train's jarring and her head rolling he shifted from his bench and sat at her side, a silent invitation for her to lean on him. She understood perfectly and was fast asleep on his shoulder in no time… then so was he, to the point they almost missed their stop. It was a mad rush to manage all her boxes and their suitcases and she was laughing at his grumbling, poking fun that he had no sense of adventure.

They had fallen right back into their old routine and after the first night back she drove up to the station for Saturday lunch wearing one of the pretty new dresses she bought while in town. Howard was at his usual spot, same as he ever was, half his shirt untucked and sipping on a jar. Jack stopped sweeping and rushed forward to help her with her coat.

"Well, Miss Charlie… How was Chicago?" Jack asked as he hung the green velvet by the door.

The Station was busy for a Saturday, lots of locals down for a bite to eat and a jar of shine. Not wanting to be overheard Charlie smiled at Jack and took her usual seat at the bar before answering, "Chicago was an adventure."

Her eyes met Forrest's briefly in the mirror above the grill and Howard picked up on it straight away, "Did you go dancing in that fancy dress?"

"I did," she answered with a smile. "I danced with Tommy. He even let me stand on his feet so he could do all the work." Busting out laughing at the look on Howard's face she missed the way Forrest grunted and ground his teeth.

"What else you do?" Howard asked frowning, unhappy with the direction her story was going.

"Never you mind what I did in Chicago," Charlie answered knowing they were digging for information Forrest had neglected to share. "Just know that I had a wonderful time."

Jack was straddling the seat beside her, "You going back soon."

Pursing her lips she thought it over, "Around Christmas…"

"That's next month," Forrest grumbled setting a plate in front of her. "You have no business going back to Chicago so soon."

Charlie recognized at once that he was cross and raised a brow in challenge. She'd do as she damn well pleased. "You're welcome to come with me but if you think I am spending Christmas at the boardinghouse with Mrs. Fontanne you are dead wrong."

A grin spread slow across Howard's face as he finally got the news he'd been waiting to hear. So she had spent time with Forrest in the city and she was inviting him back. Little brother must have done something right.

"Howard stop grinning like a jackass, Jack, get back to sweeping the floors, and Charlotte," he leaned down and put his hands on the bar, broad and intimidating before he growled, "you will spend Christmas here with us, not with Martha Banner. Now eat your damn lunch."

He slammed a second plate down besides hers and moved around the bar to sit at her side, glaring down at the succulent fried chicken he'd made for them. She looked at him for a second, saw him dart a glance at her from the corner of his eye then picked up her chicken. The first crispy bite was so damn good that she closed her eyes and just enjoyed, sighing after the first swallow, "I would take your cooking over the lobster salad at the Drake any day Forrest."

What she said consoled him and he hunched a little less, grunting once to confirm he'd heard her. When their relatively silent lunch was finished Charlie set some coins on the bar only to have Forrest slide them back to her with a determined glare.

"If you keep feeding me I might never go away," she teased dropping the coins back into her wallet.

He was looking at her, working his jaw for a minute before pushing away his empty plate and muttering, "I like it."

"You like what?" She asked confused.

He gestured at the ceiling saying in his way that he liked the new bedroom.

"I told you it was nice waking up with something beautiful to look at," Charlie added with a soft smile.

Howard starting laughing so hard he just about fell out of his chair. Unsure what was so funny she looked at him then realized how she must have sounded and threatened, "Howard you stop laughing or I will come over there and slap that grin right off your face."

He straightened and brushed the hair from his bloodshot eyes, faking behaving before adding, "Fancy wallpaper is nice but I think the man would prefer waking up _next to_ something beautiful he can look at." And the guffaws started all over again.

Jack was busting out in chuckles, clutching the broom and bent over. Tears in his eyes he looked up just in time to see Charlie sock Howard square in the shoulder before she stalked out the door.

The next Saturday when Charlie came back to the station the teasing stopped and she could swear that both Forrest's brothers were sporting fading bruises. Lunch passed with Charlie and Howard up to their usual inappropriate nonsense. She stayed past supper sitting on the porch and watching the sun set with the men, sharing a jar of applejack with Forrest... and not one damn word was said about it by either brother.

"So what did you sit and look at this week?" Howard asked breaking the silence and giving her his playful wicked look.

Taking a bite of the peach cobbler Bertha had helped her make the day before as part of her new weekly baking lessons she answered, "I saw this really pretty abandoned house and am tempted to see if it's for sale." Her voice grew dreamy, "I have only dwelled in boarding houses and tenements, that is if I had a roof at all... Never had a real home." She took a long sip of brandy. "Besides, I'm at my breaking point with Mrs. Fontanne and I swear to god I am one insult away from slapping her. For the sake of general peace I need to get out of there."

Forrest glanced up at her but did not say a word. Sitting on the steps, Jack looked over his shoulder and asked, "She still giving you a hard time?"

"I would not call it a hard time exactly… just a lot of inappropriate questions and assumptions. She once accused me of being on the run from my husband and having abandoned my children… god only knows what she thinks of me now. I have a feeling in her mind I am Satan himself, here to corrupt the minds of the locals."

"You corrupted mine," Howard said with a straight face as he scratched his scruffy chin.

Sapphire eyes danced as she looked at her friend and spoke the truth, "You were plenty corrupted before I found you Howard Bondurant."

"She really say that to you?" Forrest sounded down right appalled in his quiet way.

"Awww, it was months ago." Charlie did not mean to blow it out of proportion, "I can handle Mrs. Fontanne. I am just hoping I can get out of there before the snow keeps me locked inside and I have a violent outburst." She gave Howard a wicked grin knowing he would like nothing better than to see her lay one on the fat old cow.

"Which house you thinkin of buyin?" Forrest grunted and rocked is chair a few times listening to her describe the little white house and the lake it sat by once again amazed at how beautiful she could make their backwater county sound.

"And it has a big porch like Jack suggested…" Charlie finished with a grin.

"That's the old Mayweather mansion… it ain't little and it ain't livable…" Howard rolled his eyes at how she could find such an old decrepit building so pretty.

"I think it's charming," she teased back. "It needs a lot of work, granted, but much of the woodwork is solid and lovely. It would also give some locals jobs fixing it up."

"Better just put a match to it and start over," Howard mumbled into his jar before she poked him with her toe.

She was laughing at how foolish she sounded, "Don't you be making fun of my mansion Howard. Just wait until it's finished and has some ridiculous fancy name like Elliot's Lodge…"

"More like Bondurant Basin," Howard's dark blue eyes were dancing.

"I intended to be a respectable woman… eventually," Charlie snorted with a grin. "Why the hell would I name my house after you troublemakers?"

Howard could not look cockier as he answered, nodding his head toward Forrest, "Who do you think owns that pretty little house and all that land you are so eager to buy?"

"The plot thickens." A playful smile spread across her face as her attention went to Forrest. "I don't know if I want to go into business with you bootleggers…" Chuckling darkly as she sipped the jar, humming as the fire burned her belly. "Unless of course you feel like selling it to me."

The Mayweather mansion was just down the road, walking distance to the station and sitting pretty just like she said. Forrest had bought it years ago as he gathered all the available nearby land with his bootlegging money. Deliberating over his course of action he weighed the pros and cons. She would be close, close enough for him to see often but the house needed at least six months of labor if not more. If she chose to leave then she might sell it to someone else… or if she settled down with another fella he would have to see her with him. But if she was his girl he could give her the house she wanted, fix it up with all the fancy paper she might like. He was getting ahead of himself and grunted as he sipped their jar, chugging a few deep gulps.

"Slow down their Forrest," Charlie warned, never having seen him drink so quick. "Don't worry, I'm not going to try to buy a house you clearly don't want to sell."

He was breathing a little faster than he should as he darted glances at her. He grumbled something unintelligible and saw Howard's shoulders shake in silent laughter. Eventually he spat out. "Pack up your stuff tomorrow. Stay here until you find something more suitin," Forrest cleared his throat then added, "You can use the spare room upstairs."

Unexpected warmth moved under her skin. Blaming the liquor she sat back in her chair and thought about it, completely unaware that she was blushing bright red at the direction of her thoughts. At that moment Forrest wished his brothers would go the hell home already so he could find an excuse to kiss the golden girl and convince her to stay. He'd only seen her once in the last week with her living in town and him running the station, especially busy filling the winter liquor rush all over the state. If she lived with him he would get to be near her every day.

Curling her toes she took the jar from Forrest, taking a long pull as she mulled it over. He had not so much as held her hand since Chicago, though he had sat next to her at meals and now he was sharing his jar. Also, her whole life she'd been independent… she was used to coming and going as she pleased, he might not like that.

"Forrest is right." It was Howard who spoke up in the hanging silence. "You should stay at the station. It's a far cry better than the boardinghouse or the hotel. And just think how fat you'll get from all of Forrest's cookin and all the trouble we can get into when no one is lookin."

"I'm not so sure," Charlie said in a sleepy voice, rocking with her eyes closed in the dark but smiling when Forrest brushed her hand, fingers lingering as he took the jar. "You certain you want me around at night when you're conducting business?"

"Hell," Jack chimed in. "You can just do what Maggie did and stay upstairs."

Before Forrest could pounce on him Howard smacked the back of Jack's skull with a loud backhand.

'Oww!" Jack jumped from the stoop turning to face them while rubbing his skull. "What the hell was that for?"

"For opening your goddamn mouth," Howard mumbled.

Silence fell amongst the group, not one of the men knowing just what to say after Jack's inappropriate outburst.

Eventually Charlie spoke in an angry voice, "I am not Maggie…"

"No," Forrest agreed taking her hand firmly in the dark while his brothers pretended not to notice. "You're our Charlotte."

* * *

Charlie had not accepted or declined Forrest's offer of the spare room before she left that night and it had been eatin at him. If Jack had just kept his goddamn mouth shut she would be living with him as she should be. Each time he'd gone to town in the following days Forrest had stopped at the general store across from Nightingales Boardinghouse hoping to catch a glimpse of her car... but every time the old Ford was gone, Charlie off on another one of her adventures no doubt.

A few nights later Forrest and Howard dropped off some few cases at one of the local watering holes. Frequented by the farming folks of Franklin, Rutabaga was a crowded honkey-tonk with loud music and lots of energy. As payment was made for the shipment Forrest glanced up and saw Charlie sitting across the crowded room at the bar alone. A cup was at her lips as she stared forward lost in thought. She had no business at a rowdy bar unaccompanied and he was about to stalk over there and tell her when Mr. Smith, the proprietor, spoke up.

"That there is Miss Elliot," the older country gent explained as he saw what had caught Forrest's attention. "She don't like to be bothered. Best you leave her be."

A deeper scowl etched Forrest's brow as he looked back on his longtime acquaintance. "She been in here before?"

"Comes in once or twice a week for supper." The old man glanced at the quiet woman sitting alone. "Keeps to herself and ain't exactly the sociable sort with the gentry. Pays extra for Tiny there to make sure she's left alone."

He saw it then, Smith's massive bouncer Tiny was standing at the wall watching the room but near enough Charlie that when a patron got too close to the woman he was quickly turned away. Forrest's first instinct made him growl a little at the thought of Tiny even trying to keep him from the golden girl. Working his jaw he moved closer, determined to go where he damn well pleased.

Raised voices broke out in a distant corner and Charlie glanced over her shoulder, brows low to see what the fuss was. Looking entirely unimpressed with the rednecks looking to brawl she shrugged to herself and turned back to the bar just in time to see Forrest clear the crowd and bear down upon her.

"The lady don't like to be bothered," The burly dark skinned bouncer grumbled coming forward.

Forrest turned his eyes toward the large brute and stated acerbically, "Tiny, back the fuck up."

That's all it took for the brawny man to go right back to his post and for Charlie to raise a brow, impressed with the intimidation. "I guess fighting with you ain't worth what I pay him to keep the men away." She was smiling wickedly and chuckling under her breath. "Evening Forrest?"

Forrest just looked down at her half eaten dinner then to the glass in her hands. He nodded with a low throat noise while taking off his hat. He set it on the bar beside her and eased in close. "What are you doin here Charlotte?"

Leaning toward the man as if to whisper a great secret and explained, "There is a lake about five miles out with water as blue as the sky, wonderful place to watch the sunset. I sat and looked a little too long... fell asleep until the cold woke me." Charlie gave a sheepish smirk and blushed. "Since I missed supper at Nightingales I popped in here. Smith's cooking is decent... though not nearly as good as yours."

Reaching up Forrest pulled a small dried leaf from her hair watching her shiver a little and glance at him in that innocent way she does. Preparing to speak he was interrupted when Howard charged forward with his arms full of crates. "Hot damn it's Charlie!"

"Evening Howard," she greeted with a grin.

Howard set his crates on the bar and took the seat at her side, ignoring Forrest's glare of disapproval. With a cockeyed smirk Howard snatched a fried potato off her plate and teased, "Rutabagas can get a little wild. Don't really know if this is the best place for you... or are you lookin to deck some more drunks?"

"Why, you looking to get decked?" She quipped with a wicked broad smile. "I got sweet ol' Tiny over there watching over me. Besides, I have been in every kind of bar from east coast to west... this place ain't so bad. And they serve Bondurants finest apple." She finished her beverage with red lips curved in an impish grin. "If you boys got time for a quick drink I'll buy..."

"What do you say Forrest?" Howard asked with a mischievous glitter in his eye. "We got time for a drink with this pretty lady?"

The last thing Forrest wanted to be doing was drinking when he should be working but the thought of leaving her there in that rowdy bar unattended did not sit well in his gut, Tiny or no. He grunted his approval and Charlie raised her hand to signal to the barkeep and ordered a round. Lifting a glass she turned toward the silent Forrest Bondurant standing at her shoulder and pressed the cup into his hand. Charlie tapped his glass with hers, before she smiled and sipped.

"When you gonna make me more cookies?" Howard asked swallowing half his drink in one go.

Laughing under her breath, "I'm going to visit Bertha tomorrow. What kind do you want?"

"The kind made with love," he said it all dreamy and made her snort with laughter.

"Sure thing Howard," She was still chuckling as she finished her drink, seeing clearly the brothers were ready to go.

As she was reaching for her wallet to pay Forrest set some change on the counter with a challenging look in his eye. "Come on Charlotte, we'll see you home."

Forrest rode with her while Howard and Jack followed behind in the truck. When they pulled up to Nightingales Boardinghouse he got out of Charlie's beat up old car and walked her to the door, surprising her more when he went right in behind her. The hour was late and thankfully Mrs. Fontanne had gone to bed otherwise Charlie was certain there would have been no end of trouble if she'd seen a man with her.

"Forrest," she whispered with wide eyes in the dim lobby. "You're gonna get me in trouble if anyone see you here with me."

"There won't be no trouble cause you're movin into the station. Ain't no need for you to pussyfoot around here and spend your nights eatin at rowdy honkey-tonks just to avoid breakin bread with that woman."

Playful sapphire eyes looked up to him, clearly he was on to her little scheme. "What if you don't like having me there Forrest? I'm awfully independent and I won't be changing my comings and goings."

He knew how to get what he needed. Forrest took a step closer and stroked a hand down her hair, threading his fingers into the golden waves at the nape of her neck before descending for a kiss. It was quick and controlled least he forget himself but even so he noticed at once that she tasted like crazy apple and he wanted more. Pulling back with effort he mumbled, "I got a few more, uh, stops to make tonight. I will be back in two hours and you will be packed up and ready to go."

Her voice was husky as her brows drew together, "Tonight?"

"Weather's turning bad... snows comin." There was a look in his eye. "I gotta think of Mrs. Fontanne's wellbeing...Don't want to trap her with a spitfire like you."

She gave him a dark grin, fully aware he was maneuvering her to get his way, "You are nothing but trouble Forrest Bondurant."

A few hours later Charlie was fast asleep in the spare room while Forrest cracked the door to look in on her. He knew that he had been a bit underhanded... either way she was right where he wanted her.

* * *

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	10. Chapter 9

**I was feeling generous and thought I would get this chapter out ASAP to you wonderful folks! I can't thank you enough for the reviews. Each one is super appreciated and you are awesome for taking the time. Shout out to: marulk, Guest x, and AvalonTheLadyKiller.**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

She flitted in and out, coming and going as she pleased that first week. If Forrest had an issue with her independence he had not spoken a word, especially since she showed up for every supper and even tried to cook a few under his supervision.

That first week had shown some form of business every evening, men stockpiling before the snows came to make moving moonshine difficult. Charlie had watched the deals from the corner near the stove, often reading and rocking in the chair Forrest brought in for her. Her rifle was always in reach, leaning against the wall but shielded by the angle of the stove. Watching the men the Bondurants dealt with, gaging who was trouble, was almost like a game to her after a childhood bootlegging herself. Her seventh night Forrest was talking to some rugged youth in overalls and she could see trouble was brewing. Forrest's hands were in his pockets, brass knuckles already on his fingers as his low tone made it clear that the man before him better shape the fuck up.

When a full jar of shine was swung against Forrest's skull the brawl began. It was five on three and rising slowly from her chair with her rifle at the ready she knocked the skulls of two brawlers with the butt of her gun, evening the score, before going right back to her seat and her book to let the men finish the fight. It was over in less than five minutes; the only casualty, one innocent jar of liquor.

After the fools were dragged out and dumped in the cold Forrest ordered Jack to clean up the mess before stomping over to where Charlie sat. She licked her fingertip and turned the page, not looking up before saying, "You're welcome."

The petulant grumble that caught in his throat as he plodded away made her smirk. While the men cleaned up the blood and mess below she soaked in the tub, leaving the hot water in case Forrest felt so inclined. Later he came knocking. By the look of his wet hair when she opened her door he had followed her unspoken suggestion and calmed down considerably.

There was a bruise forming at his temple where the jar had caught him upside the head. Looking to his wound she asked softly, "Are you alright?"

When he just kept staring at her she paused, unsure if this was Forrest's silent communication or if he was waiting for something.

"Come on in." She pulled the door wide and watched as he cautiously entered the space he'd prepared for her. "Take a seat on the bed."

Moving to the bureau she pulled out a drawer and opened a bottle inside. Dumping two aspirin in her palm she lifted the glass of water she brought to bed every night and handed him both. After he swallowed the pills she moved between his spread thighs and gingerly combed her fingers through the short hair near his lump as she looked it over.

The way he was watching her, he looked like a puppy that was not sure if he wanted to bite or just be loved on but as her fingers kept up scratching at his scalp he took a deep breath and his shoulders relaxed. She wanted to say "good boy" but had a feeling he would not see the humor.

"The one I knocked out near Jack was reaching for a blade in his back pocket. The other one I just hit to even the odds," she explained in a soft voice knowing that's why he had come to her. "I know _you_ did not need my help but Jack is not built like you and Howard, and he doesn't know how to fight properly for someone his size."

Forrest had not seen the knife and though Jack was enthusiastic, Charlotte was right… he was not a hand to hand brawler. Seeing that she had gotten though his thick bruised skull she leaned forward and gingerly pressed her lips to the lump at his temple. His eyes went to the tie of her dark blue dressing gown and he itched to pull the sash and have it fall open… remembering the hint of silk night gown he had seen at the Drake Hotel.

Ridged he watched her take the glass from his hand and set it on the bureau before she skirted the bed. The mattress dipped behind him shocking him out of his thoughts as her warm palms settled on the tension in his neck. For a woman with such delicate hands they were surprisingly strong as Charlie kneaded the taunt muscles of this neck and shoulders, lessening the ache pounding at his head. He let out a long groan and closed his eyes, never having been touched like that, turning into putty in her hands.

When he was just about a puddle he felt her shift away from him. Looking over his shoulder he found her staring, her color up and sapphire eyes laced with naked desire. Moistening her lips she said in a low husky voice, "Perhaps you better get to bed now."

He had no words. Forrest stood and offered a grunt, leaving as she told him to. Back in his bed he lay in the darkness replaying that unknowing wanton look she leveled at him, the way her breath had been coming fast and shallow from swollen lips before Charlotte shooed him away. The very thought that the golden girl had become so aroused just touching him made his cock jump in his stroking fist. Her hands had been heaven trying to sooth his ache. Forrest thought of sapphire eyes looking almost confused and full of naked desire before her pretty tongue darted out over her lips, his hand moved faster on his pecker and with a muffled groan he came hard. A woosh of breath left his chest as he began to relax, thoughts still centered on the woman sleeping down the hall.

When he heard the latch of her door softly lift and the sound of bare feet padding quietly down the stairs he tied up his pants and moved without thought to see to her. He was silent, knowing where to step on the stairs so as not to make a sound and watched from the shadows as the golden girl rested against the bar, bare of her dressing gown and leaning forward just enough so that the silk of the blue lacey nighty caressed her rear, showing every dip and curve.

She seemed almost agitated as she sipped the fresh glass of water in her hand, fluttering the front of her nightgown and making the fabric ripple around her body. Forrest watched her, eyes dark as he thanked god he'd satiated his need before seeing her like that. Had he been as rock hard as he was when he'd left her room he would have taken her right there on the floor. Moving out of the shadows toward the small pool of light her lantern spread he saw her notice him, startled then relaxed once she recognized who was moving toward her.

Her voice was surprised, still husky, "Forrest." Painfully aware she was practically naked she stammered as she got ready to scamper away, "I just came down here to get something I need."

He moved closer, stepping softly as he asked lowly, "Did you find what you need?"

It was still there written all over her, the flushed cheeks and swollen lips. The way her eyes darted over his body before settling on his mouth… he could practically smell the arousal coming off her. Blinking suddenly she caught herself and looked to the side when he came to stand right before her. She could hardly manage a whisper with him so close. "I don't rightly know." She sounded so hungry and so frustrated all at once.

Charlie was trapped with the bar at her back and the virile red-blooded man so near the heat of his skin was pouring into her. When his big callused hands came to her waist and lifted her with ease to perch at the edge of the counter her eyes went wide and a tiny gasp fell from parted lips.

His nose was at her throat, soft mouth skimming up the ivory column until stopping at her ear as he felt her heart race and breath come quick. A rumble of noise came from his throat, "I know what you need Charlotte."

She'd been so distracted from the way his mouth felt against her she failed to notice the hand running up her thigh or that her legs were parted indecently around his torso. Calloused fingertips slipped beneath the silk until Forrest edged toward where she was burning with heat. Aware she might bolt he placed his other arm around her, his hand steady on her rump. When he reached her femininity and heard the confused and hungry cry he hushed her once, felt her trembling something awful and moved to part her slick folds.

She was so wet, already swollen and ready for him. One simple pass over the hardened little nub and she moaned, wide eyed and breathless as his steady gaze bore straight into hers. He was watching her as he touched her, reading how she needed to be stroked by her little pants and mewls. When Forrest slipped one finger into the blazing saturated heat of her core she just about lost it, swallowed and rolled her head back. She was so tight but he slid in another, pumping against the spongy flesh at the roof of her passage while his thumb ran tight circles over her pearl.

Charlie's hands clutched the side of the bar till her knuckles shown white. Squirming as if to escape the unknown build up, a new tension she had never felt before yet Forrest held her steady and was mercilessly fostering what he knew she needed. His mouth went back to her neck, biting and kissing as he upped the tempo and felt her hips begin to roll to his rhythm. When his mouth closed over the silk covered tip of her breast her whole body lurched. He felt her clench around his fingers, felt her shudder as she loudly cried out, her tunnel quivering as the waves of her pleasure came upon her… He didn't ease up, he continued to work his hands and tease with his tongue as she gasped and panted between cries of release until she was fully sated.

* * *

Stretching her legs Charlie gave a sleepy groan, hearing the men shuffle around downstairs. She'd slept good and late, far past her normal hour. A wicked smile curved her lips as her cheeks flamed in remembrance of the night before. Charlie had no idea such a feeling existed, could hardly believe she had lived her life up to that point completely unaware of that firecracker explosion. Over the years she'd seen men and women in the throes of passion, lurked in whorehouses as she listened to the men jabber and collected information on whoever she was tracking… those women had made noise all right, but Charlie knew it was just to please the customer… had seen the looks in their eyes as they worked and knew they took little pleasure in it.

But Forrest, he had set her alight. Every gasp and moan she'd made had come unbidden, uncontrollable… she'd been a true wanton. She could not get the image out of her head. What he'd done to her the night before, the explosion that finally calmed the unfamiliar tension that had been raging like a wild fire in her veins… the masculine pleased look on his face when he pulled those torturous fingers from her body and sucked them clean right before her eyes. It was the most erotic thing she had ever witnessed. He had not said a word, simply scooped up her listless body from the bar and carried her to her room, setting her down gently on the bed before pulling the quilt up to keep the chill away. What he'd done to her had left her practically boneless and deep sleep was upon her before he'd even closed the door.

Climbing out of bed she pulled on a simple cotton sweater and pencil skirt, took time styling her hair and applying a touch of rouge to her lips to hide the scar. By the time she made her way downstairs it was almost lunch. A few patrons were already lazing about as Charlie found Jack at the grill and gave him a smile. Taking her usual seat she noticed Forrest's office door was open where he was no doubt pouring over his ledger as he tended to do in the earlier hours of the day.

"Good morning Miss Charlie," Jack greeted her with an enthusiastic grin despite the bruised swelling at his cheek. "Don't you look pretty. Sleepin in late seems to agree with you."

"Awww, shucks," Charlie teased with a wink.

"After all the excitement last night your body must have needed a good long rest." Setting down a hot plate of breakfast Jack added, "Glad to see you got what you needed."

She didn't mean to laugh, tried hard to cover it with a cough and keep her jaw locked tight but she just could not stop herself and swore she heard a muffled snort of noise come from Forrest's office. Her eyes went to the bar where only hours ago she got exactly what she had unknowingly needed. When she looked back at Jack his expression was confused and she covered with a quick lie, "You just reminded me of a joke Howard told me a few days back… sorry." After taking a bite of food she nodded, "Food's good Jack. Thank you."

Forrest listened to the chit chat between Charlotte and Jack, glad to hear the smile in her voice. He risen early, as was his custom, and peeked in on her. She was sprawled wildly in the little bed, breathing softly and gentle in sleep. He watched her for a good hour before he realized the time, hearing Jack and Howard come banging in to the Station for breakfast. His eyes grew wide, darting his gaze back to her, afraid she'd wake from the racket and find him spying. He'd shut the door, bursting with relief when he found her still dreaming.

Whatever had come over him the night before he did not know. All he knew was that he had to please her, relished each sound she made for him. The licentious look on her face when she climaxed around his fingers had been burned into his mind. Forrest recognized from the astonished glitter in her languid eyes that she'd never experienced a woman's full pleasure and felt nothing but masculine pride that he'd been the one to give it to her.

As he was caught up in his thoughts he heard the station door open and close, realizing she had left before he'd had the chance to say good morning. It was just as well… the direction his mind had been going his cock was already stiff and throbbing. Forrest took a sip of coffee, feeling the bitter liquid burn down his throat then though of the tangy sweetness of the golden girl he'd licked from his fingers like honey and the way her eyes went wide and lustful as he did.

"You need something Forrest?" Jack asked suddenly, sticking his head in the office door. "You're making a lot of racket over those legers?"

Forrest almost jumped and cleared his throat, grateful the desk shielded his straining erection. "No Jack, I just need you to get back to work. And wash the damn dishes… I can hear em piling up in the sink."

* * *

"Okay. Good. Now line up the sight with the target and when you feel good and ready pull the trigger."

A boom followed by a feminine squeal of triumph sounded in the woods. "I hit it!"

Charlie was impressed, looking down at Bertha's infectious smile with one of her own. "You are a natural."

A light dusting of snow covered the ground and the leafless limbs of the trees that shielded their doings. Air crisp as it breezed around them was refreshing. Bertha had been begging Charlie for weeks to take her out to the forest to hunt and just be free like the menfolk were. The woman had a knack for wheedling and eventually Charlie gave in. She did not take her hunting, of course, but she did bring her to a secluded spot to teach her how to fire a pistol.

They had become fast friends, both sharing a slightly tongue-in-cheek sense of humor… though Charlie was careful not to let it go too far.

"If my Pa saw me right about now I think he'd keel over," Bertha squinted one eye shut and sighted her next tin can target squeezing the trigger with far more confidence and hitting the stump just below it.

"Not until he beat me good and destroyed my fine reputation," Charlie teased, having fun as she watched her friend.

"Your reputation ain't all that good… especially now that you've been livin at the station." The impish smile on Bertha's lips made Charlie laugh. "Whole town is certain Forrest is courtin you after Ellie Fletcher saw him gawken at'cha when she stopped for gas a few days back."

The look Charlie gave her was playfully acrimonious and amused. "She saw no such thing."

"He was staring at ya so intently Ellie had to tap his shoulder to get his attention. Hear tell he turned beet red at getting caught." Biting her lower lip and looking positively devilish Bertha went on, "He kissed you yet?"

"Your mind is in the gutter Miss Minnix," Charlie tried to sound sharp but was giggling a little.

Mischief was pouring out of Bertha's lips, "He is awful handsome… the strong silent type."

Charlie's face was blushing crimson as she cleared her throat and gestured toward the remaining tin can. "We here to squawk or shoot things?"

Bertha aimed, fired, and hit the target before answering nonchalantly, "Both."

"What about Jack?" Time to turn the tables. "He kissed you yet?"

"Oh, he lays one on me just about any chance he can get. He's been real gentlemanly though." Her voice grew a little forlorn, "Brings me flowers and courts me proper… but I can't take them home or my Daddy would have a conniption. Last summer Jack bought me a real pretty yellow dress… the day the ATU came and burned down the Bondurants' old stills. When I was taken home my daddy burned it… Didn't let me step out the door for a month."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But I get the sense he is warming up to the Bondurant name."

"The fact you keep telling tales and singing their praises doesn't hurt…" It was the sarcasm that endeared Bertha to Charlie from the beginning.

Charlie giggled darkly, she had been working on the Preacher… tying to paint the men in a positive light. "The Bondurant boys have been good to me… it's the least I can do."

"Well, let's hope that they don't do anything tonight that might sway his view…"

"Tonight?"

"It's the Christmas Hoedown at the Barksdale place. Didn't you know?" Bertha's blue eyes went wide. "They will be there selling their liquor, Jack told me a week ago."

Charlie shook her head, blonde curls bouncing, "I haven't been into town to hear gossip since I moved to the Station… and the boys failed to mention it." Frowning a little she wondered if that was because Forrest did not want her to go.

There was a knowing look in Bertha's eye. "We can't let the men dictate everything we do. If Forrest don't got the grit to ask you then you should go anyway and keep me company and you can try out all those dances I taught you."

Well, hell with him. She was going. "I'll be there."

* * *

When he saw her come down the stairs, hair waved and curled like it had been in Chicago Forrest felt a sinking in his gut. The grin on her painted red lips was genuine and hinted at wickedness… Somehow she'd found out. Howard had warned him trying to hide it was foolish but kept his silence anyway, hell even Jack's normally loud mouth had been sealed.

Looking up from the jar in his hand Howard gave her a cockeyed once over. She had chosen a floral cotton dress, cut simply and modest, that showed off her figure. He could hear his brother Forrest grumbling to himself, saw him shift his weight between his feet as he pulled off his hat.

Snickering into his jar he tossed her a saucy complement, "Well don't you look real purdy Charlie."

She gave him that wild dark smile she shared with the eldest brother when they were up to no good. "You look like you actually combed your hair." She stepped nearer to make a closer inspection. "And your shirt is tucked in… must be a special occasion."

"Will you save me a dance?" His cocky grin only spreading further.

Leaning down Charlie kissed Howard's scruffy cheek as she answered, "I would be honored to step on your toes."

Forrest grunted, catchin her eye for a moment, giving her a long look.

"Evening Forrest." Charlie straightened and walked toward the door, calling over her shoulder, "Don't wait up for me."

When the door banged shut and her engine revved Howard began to outright laugh at the look on Forrest's face. "You are going to have a night of hell and I am going to enjoy watchin you squirm."

"Fuck you Howard."

His brother only laughed harder, running a hand through his no longer tidy hair out of habit.

Howard's prediction was accurate. The Bondurants had rounds to make before stopping at the Barksdale annual Christmas Hoedown. When the trio stepped in from the cold it was clear the party was already in full swing. Charlie was grinning wildly, sapphire eyes sparkling as one of the local men spun her around the floor in the figure of the dance. When they separated and she knew the steps Forrest narrowed his eyes and growled, biting down hard at the cigar between his teeth.

"Get out of the way Forrest," Howard complained, pushing past him with a crate of jars.

So focused was he on scowling at Frank Dooley, the eligible deputy who was clearly flirting with the golden girl, that he failed to notice the glance and smile she darted his way. When the song ended Charlie nodded a thank you and went over to the little Brethren girl Jack was so fond of, Bertha Minnix, and the two just fell into howls of laughter.

"You gonna stand there gawkin or you gonna move some product," Howard called from the dark corner he and Jack were setting up in. "We already got us a line."

"You two jackasses can manage just fine," Forrest grunted adjusting his hat and looking at his idiot brothers.

'Uhhn uhh Forrest," Jack complained. "I promised Bertha I would dance with her. Don't expect me to be tied to this corner all night." And just like that the youngest Bondurant bolted.

"Aww don't give him that look," Howard spoke up as he handed a jar to the nearest customer and pocketed a dollar. "He's got the determination to court his girl…"

Jack was grinning ear to ear as Bertha offered her hand. Moving his lips around the stogie Forrest grit his teeth debating on what he should do. As he worked up the gumption to approach Charlotte another beat him to it and again she was on the dance floor enjoying herself, another man making her smile. Leaning back into the dark next to Howard the local men saw the agitation about the dangerous middle brother and gave him a wide berth. Howard handled the transactions, tapping his toe to the music for the first hour until excusing himself. When he walked straight over to Charlie Forrest was just about ready to sock him in the goddamn jaw.

Howard spun her back to the dance floor, ruffling up her skirt, and took her through the steps of a fast paced and boisterous dance. For such a tall man Howard was a strong dancer and when he leaned down and whispered something Charlie burst out laughing… and Forrest knew his brother had said something inappropriate, the very kind of foul humor the two of them played at.

Forrest lit a cigar and scanned the room. Mrs. Fontanne was there, scowling something awful at Charlie, Leaving him to wonder if the woman was bitter her nosy behavior lost a tenant and the three dollars she was making a week. For her part Charlie ignored the old whispering woman, seemed carefree.

Flushed and breathless from dancing she was so got-dang beautiful. Another man came up and with an apologetic shake of the head put a hand to her heart and signaled that she needed a break. Howard saw her to the corner where she'd thrown her cardigan on some hay and set her down, taking off his hat and taking a seat at her side. He had her in stitches until at length she elbowed him in the ribs and shooed him off.

Blue eyes danced with mischief as Howard came back to the shady corner and took a seat on the crates of shine they'd brought to sell. "Charlie's a far cry better than she was a few months back." Howard said, unscrewing a jar and taking a long swig. "Turns out she's been practicing. Wouldn't tell me who has been teachin her though…"

Forrest had starting pacing away in the middle of Howard's sentence. She had been practicing and it sure has hell had not been him who taught her all those new steps. Eyes full of fire he held his cigar between his lips and closed the distance between him and the golden girl. When she looked up and smiled, eyes glowing and full of warmth, the anger in him shifted and Forrest felt as if the room had gone quiet.

Taking off his hat he pressed it to his chest. He knew folks were watching him and after a grunt he muttered like a jackass, "Uh, Charlotte."

She simply smiled. "Forrest."

He had no idea what the hell he was supposed to say to her. Sapphire eyes took in his appearance. He'd changed his shirt, was wearing one of his better sweaters under his typical grey cardigan. From the way the pocket drooped was clearly packing his brass knuckles.

One eyebrow cocked up as she broke the awkward silence, "How's business?"

Ignoring her question he looked to the left and took the cigar from his mouth, looking down at the glowing tip before rumbling, "Come walk with me."

Her voice was low and her eyes hinting at the same hunger from the night before, "I would love to take a walk with you."

Charlie grabbed her sweater and pulled it over her arms before standing. They walked toward the barn door, passing Jack where Forrest growled at his little brother, "Playtime is over Jack. Get back to work and help Howard."

And just like that Forrest was his gruff old self and Charlie was smirking, darting a glance his way out of the corner of his eye. He didn't take her hand or offer his arm, instead he stood close, brushing against her as they moved out into the cold night air. Lots of cars and a few horse drawn buggies littered the lot before the barn. Other sweethearts were walking in the moonlight, chaperoned by old women with nothing better to do than gossip. When they reached the edge of the light they both stopped and took a silent moment to look at the view. Stars were glowing, smeared across the sky. When he looked down at her face he saw the contented smile and wondered if this was her idea of "sittin and lookin at things."

"They sure are pretty aren't they Forrest?" Charlie hummed on a sigh.

Looking right at her he put his hat back on his head and nodded once, "Sure are."

"You were glaring at me again." Sapphire eyes looked up at him from the side, a little impish as was her voice. "Just like at the last Barn Dance."

He grunted feeling a new surge of annoyance, "I wasn't glarin at you. I was glarin at Howard…"

"After living in Franklin for the last few months I am quite certain that I know your glare down pat." She was teasing him.

"You shouldn't be dancing with all them men. Sends out the wrong idea," Forrest bit the words out around his cigar.

The smile fell off her face. "And what idea is that? I'm not the only single woman enjoying herself in there."

"And just who taught you all them new dances?" He growled, angry again.

"None of your business Forrest Bondurant." Charlie faced him head on and squared her shoulders. "I like to dance and I aim to do it. There is nothing improper in my behavior."

"You came here alone."

"I'm escorted!" She threw up her hands and felt her temper growing.

He felt as if someone had punched him in the gut, "What man brought you here?"

Rolling her eyes she grit her teeth, "Well it sure as hell wasn't you. Somehow I get the impression that you didn't want me to know about this party."

Tossing his cigar to the dirt he took her by the arms and demanded in a low dangerous tone, "Answer the question Charlotte."

"Why didn't you ask me Forrest? Don't want to be seen publicly with me?" She was getting heated.

"I don't dance," he growled.

"I have danced with you … You are a better dancer than half the men who partnered me tonight."

He pulled her a little closer, tightening his grip on her shoulders, "And just which one of those men brought you here?"

After a noise of annoyance she snarled, "I am chaperoned by Preacher Minnix and his daughter!"

The intensity of his eyes as he watched her mouth form the words softened at the mention of Jack's girl. "Aint no local courtin you?"

"Oh for Christ sake… I thought you were courtin me in your piss poor way."

Grey eyes came closer, as the nature of his grip on her arms changed and his thumbs stroked her gently. "I suppose I am."

"Then stop lecturing me and kiss me already." She sounded so fed up but all he heard was _kiss me_.

The instant she demanded so bluntly he was in motion. Forrest's full lips pressing to her red stained mouth as all his frustration was poured into the desperate nature of the kiss. He had her panting, her mouth opening to his tongue where he groaned at the honeyed taste of her. His hands had minds of their own as he stroked her body, feeling the line of her hips and rear shamelessly in the dark lot.

Charlie had knocked off his hat, desperate to run her hands through his hair, to skim his neck. God how she loved the smell of the man: the tobacco, wool, and leather… the heat and scent of maleness that radiated from him. When he pulled her close, pressing his arousal against her belly she let out a low suggestive moan, wishing he'd touch her like he had the night before.

"You best quiet that noise before one of the old women hears you," Forrest panted against her mouth, knowing his own groans had been just as passionate as hers had been.

"Huh?" Her mind was nowhere near a level of comprehending anything outside of touch.

Drawing in shaky breaths he tried to right himself, willing his cock to lay down. Hugging her to him he slowly stroked her back, hearing her purr a little against his chest.

"Once I get myself together I will be taking you back inside. You ain't gonna be dancin with no other men tonight."

"Then you will have to dance with me yourself," Charlie challenged. "Don't think you can boss me about like you do your brothers."

Her threat got him right back in control of his body. Forrest noticed the wicked gleam in her eye and chose to pick up the gauntlet. He took her elbow and bent down to scoop up his hat, dusting it off against his thigh before leading her back to the light. The room was crowded and with the golden girl at his side he finally deigned to look around the space. Boughs of evergreen were tied to the beams, holly tucked into the branches. The mood was festive and the crowd full of energy.

Jack was sulking next to Howard, working like he should but making it clear he was not happy about it. The eldest Bondurant was chatting to him, covertly sipping on a jar as he puffed his cheeks and stomped a foot to the rhythm. They'd only been back a few moments before a man who'd already danced with her three times by Forrest's count walked right on up with a grin.

"Care to take another spin around the floor Miss Elliot?" the young man asked ignoring Forrest's presence at her side.

"She ain't dancing with you James," Forrest growled aggressively, turning the full intensity of his gaze on the intruder. "And I suggest you back the fuck off from now on."

The handsome face of James Thompson, fellow bootlegger and well-known local Lothario looked up as if noticing Forrest for the first time, then down at where Forrest was holding Charlie by the elbow and sneered. Pulling Charlotte toward the edge of the dancers Forrest gave her a twirl, went through the motions, gritting his teeth until he saw that warm smile… and remembered how she laughed lightheartedly the last time he'd danced with her. He lightened up considerably, though never once smiled, too busy watching her face and the sway of her body to bother. When the song ended and the party began to clap at the music Forrest found her panting, a silly grin on her face, and her eyes aglow looking only at him.

"That was quite a dance Mr. Bondurant," Charlie praised over the din, he'd spun her about and made a real show of it.

He grunted a response, glad and almost disappointed at the same time that it was over. But even now he could see tongues waggin and eyes locked on him and the golden girl. Ready to get out of the center of attention he offered, "You want some punch?"

Nodding she let him lead her away, fully aware that he had made a huge leap for her and recognized that the tips of his ears were burning red from discomfiture. They moved toward the refreshment and stood silent, watching the room as they sipped the overly sweet beverage.

Whispering like a conspirator she admitted, "I'd rather be drinking your apple brandy to be honest… but I don't think that would go down to well with the population of this party."

He grunted a reply, narrowing his eyes at another man who thought to approach until scared off by the waves of intimidation he was sending out to any who looked at the golden girl too long, "You can have your fill when you come home."

Home... Charlie liked the way that sounded.

"Well I'll be damned," Howard sauntered up. "Forrest dancing… never thought I would see the day."

"Off with you Howard." Forrest sounded neither affronted nor embarrassed, He simply sounded like his normal gruff self.

"Sure thing baby brother," A hand came out and took Charlie away, "I'm just gonna borrow Miss Charlie for the next song… that way she can learn which Bondurant is better."

Forrest growled at her departure almost stopping Howard until he realized just what his brother was up to. Howard was trying to goad him into making a scene like a true jackass. Unwilling to be baited Forrest went back to the dark corner where Jack perched, watching the room.

"You danced really nice with Miss Charlie… made her all starry eyed."

Even his little brother was trying to get a jab in. Reaching into his pocket Forrest pulled out a fresh cigar and struck a match. "How much you sold."

"Near all." Jack pressed his hands together before looking down at the crate.

"Alright then," she spoke around the cigar. "Pack it on up. I'm calling it a night."

Eager to be finished so he could dance again with Bertha Jack hopped to it.

When the music ended Charlie went to stand with Bertha and Pastor Minnix, making idle chit chat and behaving like a proper lady instead of coming to him.

"You should stop starin at her like a piece of meat," Howard mocked as he eased up beside his brother, finding Forrest's eyes locked on Charlie. "You look just about ready to take a bite out of her…"

"You should shut your goddamn mouth," it was grunted low and followed with a dangerous warning glare.

A sloppy drunk grin stretched Howard's face, "Whatever you say brother… Just think, if you would have escorted her like you shoulda the likes of James Thompson and Deputy Dooley wouldn't be looking to take a bite neither."

Looking to the men Howard listed he found them staring at her just as he had been, and not just them. Several of the women, including Mrs. Fontanne were taking measure of Charlie and whispering.

His legs were moving, carrying him over to the fat old dame as Forrest puffed his cigar and watched men move out of his path. Howard was at his back, falling in line from habit. The name Miss Elliot was being bantered back and forth between the old gossip and anyone leaning near enough to listen, "Something just aint right about that woman. Comein and goin like she pleased, traveling alone… came in at all hours of the night with packages from god only knows where… Her highfalutin clothes. I wonder just who she visits… if you get my drift."

Forrest cleared his throat. When the beaked nose face of Mrs. Fontanne glanced up to find Forrest standing near, a cloud of smoke around him she flat out asked, "What can I do for you Mr. Bondurant."

Taking off his hat and standing politely Forrest met her eyes until she glanced briefly away, clearly cowed. "How are things at the boardinghouse?"

"Just fine."

"Send you husband over to see me tomorrow. Seems he and I need to do some talkin…" Forrest voice was menacingly low as he met her eye and made sure she understood his point.

Embarrassed to have been corrected in front of her friends Mrs. Fontanne colored and nodded dumbly.

"You have a good evening now." Forrest put his hat back on and simply walked away looking unconcerned… stoic and dangerous.

Passing through the room he did not see hide nor hair of Charlotte. Jack was waiting at the truck, pulling a tarp over the final crate as his brothers walked up.

"Miss Charlie just said goodbye." Jack looked damn proud of himself. "Pastor Minnix and Bertha saw her to her car and after she drove off the Pastor nodded to me real polite like, greeted me and everything. Can you believe that?"

Howard rolled his eyes and Forrest ignored his younger brother's exuberance. If Charlotte had left there was no reason to stay. "Get on in the truck, time to go."

"I think I'll stick around," Jack dusted his hands on his trousers, "Jimmy said he'd take me home when the party ended."

Grunting his approval Forrest climbed into the truck with Howard, puffing his cigar.

* * *

The old truck came rattling up the drive. Parking alongside Charlie's car Howard and Forrest set to unloaded the unsold corn and stacked it up the shed. Howard was hemming and hawing about the recipe, still sippin a jar as the men walked up the dirt path toward the Station. They found Charlie sitting on the porch, looking toward the lake, contented as she rested in the dark. "Welcome home."

"It ain't safe for you to be sitting out here alone in the dark," Forrest murmured seeing her eyes shine in the shadows.

She gave a breathy laugh, "I have a pistol in my purse."

Howard laughed and Forrest grunted, unlocking the door he held it open for her and wondered if she was cold. She moved past them into the dark interior of the station, squinting as he flipped the lights.

"My belly is emptier than a steel drum," Howard complained moving toward the refrigerator, yanking the door wide and grinning like a fool. He grabbed the remains of a peach cobbler Charlie had made and set it on the counter preparing to eat it straight from the dish.

"Don't you dare Howard," Charlie warned walking up to grab the fork from his fingers. "You put it on a plate like a grown man for crying out loud."

It was such a female thing to say that Howard was a little taken aback that it had come from her. "Yes ma'am."

While Forrest disappeared into his office to put away the money collected Charlie served up three portions of dessert and opened the promised jar of applejack brandy, taking a long sip with a sigh.

They ended up at one of the tables, enjoying the cobbler and the heat of the stove. When the boys were done Charlie stood up, gathering the dishes to wash in the sink.

"Don't worry bout that," Forrest grunted. "They'll keep until morning."

Looking over her shoulder she met those grey eyes and nodded, moving back to take her seat.

"That cobbler was mighty fine Charlie," Glazed blue eyes looked to her with an approving nod, "Mighty fine indeed."

"You should be thanking Bertha." Charlie chuckled into her jar. "That poor woman has taken pains to teach me the _feminine arts_. Been really patient and kind. Jack is lucky she loves him."

"No doubt he'll find a way to muck it up…"

"After all the work I put in buttering up her daddy to the Bondurant name I would be very disappointed if he did."

"What you been doin?" Forrest asked abruptly as he cocked his head and studied the wicked little smirk on her lips.

Charlie gave a low dark giggle and took a pull of brandy. "Simply pointing out your greater aspects to distract from the ones he doesn't approve of."

"So that's why the Preacher said good evening to the boy." Howard slapped his knee. "Goddamn, and Jack has no clue does he."

"Jack can be a little clueless…" Her grin was wry as she met Forrest's eye.

Forrest grunted, nodding a bit, and Charlie was certain she'd seen his lip twitch.

When the door banged open a few minutes later and a worked up Jack stalked to the table everyone looked up startled at the sudden noisy intrusion. Clearly fuming the boy stopped beside Forrest.

"You gotta straighten her out Forrest. She's a goddamn bad influence," Jack was yelling, pointing at Charlie who could not look more shocked. "She ain't got no right corruptin Bertha." His enraged face turned toward her as he continued pointing and ranting. "Teachin her things no woman should know."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" It was the first time Charlie had ever heard Forrest raise his voice.

"She took my Bertha to the woods and taught her to fire a gun. My girl was bragging at how good her aim had been, claimed Charlie called her a natural… it aint right teachin my girl to be mannish."

"Aw hell Jack," Charlie muttered before standing to look him dead in the eye. "She's been begging me to take her shooting since you opened your big mouth and told her I spend my days in the woods. Newsflash boy, women aren't chattel. They don't want to be treated like house dogs. Bertha's got a mind of her own and has been pestering the hell out of me for weeks before I finally caved. AND I told her a puffed up in the chest boy like you would not approve. She didn't care…"

Jack got right up in her face. "Men want feminine wives. Not girls who dress like boys, swear like sailors, and brawl. You put ideas in her head ruinin her like you are. What are you going to teach her next? How to throw a punch? Cause you certainly taught her how to slap a man."

"What, like this?" Charlie slapped him good and hard, rocking his head to the side. "I didn't teach her that, it just comes natural when a man is braying like a jackass." Her finger poked him in the chest as her lips drew back in a snarl. "Considering the lifestyle you lead and the type of men you deal with having your woman know how to fire a pistol could keep her alive."

He had deflated, his face blank with a hand at his stinging cheek. "It's the man's job to protect his wife… she don't need that nonsense."

"You ain't her husband and even if you were you can't be there all the time to watch over her. It's plain selfish to be more worried about your image then her welfare. And I swear to god if you upset her for being herself, leveled at her any of the horrible things you just said to me, I will kick your ass till Sunday."

"That's enough now spitfire," Forrest knew that look in her eye, could see her balling up her fist and the slight sneer of her upper lip. "Howard take him the fuck home and knock some sense into him."

"I'll knock some sense into him now," Howard's voice was brimming with anger as he smacked Jack roughly upside the head. "You goddman sumbitch talkin like that to Miss Charlie. You lost your fuckin mind?"

The youngest Bondurant was dragged out by an irate Howard and shoved into the truck while Charlie stood stalk still, staring forward as Jack's words sunk in. The anger faded to shame, humiliated that his true opinion of her was so low. Closing her eyes and letting out a deep shaky breath she said, "I have never sworn around Bertha, nor has she seen me in trousers. I know my habits are unacceptable for a decent Franklin woman… I have been careful with her."

"Hush now, none of what he said matters. Jack's just upset cause they quarreled and lookin to shift the blame." He put a hand on the back of her neck, rubbing a little as she had done to him the night before. "Ain't no shame in what you did."

Then why did she feel so horrible?

"I think I'll head on up to bed." Charlie sounded defeated as she moved from under Forrest's hand and made her way toward the stairs like a zombie.

He heard the bathroom door close and looked up to the ceiling, having no clue what to do. Offering comfort to a woman had never been something he'd been accustomed to but damned if he did not think she needed it. Jack had torn her down good, said just the thing to hurt her.

After washing the dishes and straighten up he heard her emerge from the bathroom and move down the hall to her room. Wiping his hands he went up the stairs, hesitating outside her door. He saw the light go out from under her door and chose to leave her in peace, hoping that a good night's rest would set her to right.

When morning came and Forrest made his way down stairs he saw the note on the bar at once. Beside it was twelve dollars.

_I will be out of town for a while. Here is a month's rent to cover any weeks I may be gone. Have a Merry Christmas._

_-Charlie_

He rushed up to her room to find it empty, the bed made. Barging in he opened several drawers and felt a modicum of relief to see she had not taken all her clothes. How on earth she had managed to sneak away without waking him was beyond Forrest's understanding. Her beat up old car's engine alone would have made a racket… unless she pushed it to the road first.

By the time his brothers showed up for breakfast Forrest was grinding his teeth, sitting at the bar and staring straight forward in a foul temper. Jack walked in with his head down, looking like a kicked dog.

"Miss Charlie awake yet?" The youngest asked abashed, unwilling to meet his glaring brother's eye.

Forrest simply slid the note down the bar, looking to it with a nod. Jack and Howard read it quickly before Howard bellowed, "God damn it! You ran her off Jack!" and smacked the bar top with his hand.

"I'm sorry," Jack whispered meekly.

"Ohh your sorry huh?" Forrest finally spoke in his slow cadence, running his fingers over the scar on his throat. "What exactly you sorry for? For humiliating the woman who has been taking her time to speak well of you to your Preacher friend? Yellin at her for being fond of Bertha? Or sorry she ain't here?"

Jack just shook his head, eyes downcast. "I will fix it. I'll bring her back."

"And how the hell are you gonna do that?" Incredulously Forrest leaned back in his seat and pursed his lips. "Do you know where she goes to ground?"

"Chicago," his younger brother barely breathed the word before looking up to see the rage in Forrest eyes.

The idea that she might be back amongst those men, sitting at a table with Mad Dog Floyd Banner and his wife, or dancing with that jackass Tommy boiled Forrest's blood.

"Last time she was there Bugs Moran sent a man to rape her simply because he heard she was a relative of Floyd Banner's wife…" Forrest was grunting out the words in a soft violent whisper. "Walked straight up to her goddamn hotel room door and knocked before I busted his teeth in."

Jack's gaze darted up, eyes wide at what he was hearing.

"Who do you think they're gonna send to finish the job this time? Bugsy himself?" The look of disgust on Forrest's face as he spoke to his idiot brother only grew. "And it don't scare her like it should. Just accepts it cause it's all she knows."

Howard's face was screwed up, lips in a tight line as he took a seat at the bar. "We gotta go get her."

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed it and I would love to hear your thoughts. Please Review.**


	11. Chapter 10

**Guest x, thank you for taking the time to review! I am super appreciative and would hug you if I could.**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

When the redhead lowered the coffee cup a little moon of crimson lipstick remained on the rim. Shifting in her seat she looked back at the man across from her, and the intense grey of his eyes. "No Forrest. I have not seen the blonde woman you were with last time."

"What about Banner?"

"He comes and goes. You don't want to get mixed up with those men," her voice was pleading. "They'd shoot you just as soon as look at you."

His voice was soft but to the point, "Listen Maggie. I need to find that woman right quick." Forrest had had sat in the lobby of the Drake for days and not seen a sign of her while his brothers combed the city, growing worried someone had already snatched his golden girl.

"I can't help you." She wouldn't help him more like. Getting caught up with the full blood gangsters of Chicago was a sure fire way to die. The blonde was on her own.

Her blue eyes looked down at her cup before glancing back at him. He'd shaved, put on a suit, looked almost like he fit in. Yet the backwoods accent and the wildness that clung to him regardless of the clothes gave it away. He was no city boy. "You look real good Forrest."

He had found Maggie working the same bar at the Drake Hotel and asked her to coffee. The way her face had lit up would have made his heart race about a year ago, that night all it had done was irritate him. She'd left when the going got hard and went right back to her piece of shit life in Chicago… and he recognized what he'd missed before. She wanted the things that came with it, the fashionable dresses and attention. She was every bit the glamorous city girl he'd seen the first time he'd lain eyes on her.

"Her life might be in danger Maggie." He knew she was holding out on him and it showed in the brief flare of his eye.

Frustrated he was not responding to her flirtation she muttered, "She is family to Banner. That man won't let a hair be harmed on her pretty spoiled head."

He snorted, would have laughed if capable of smiling at the irony. "Can you find out if she is even staying at the Drake?"

Maggie put a cigarette between her lips and struck a match. "No."

"Why?"

"You may be comfortable having your name known to gangsters Forrest. I'm not risking my neck or job by drawing the attention of a man like Mad Dog just to track down his kin."

"I ain't asking you to risk your neck. I'll give you money if that's what you need."

It was that sulky voice she turned sharp, "Don't insult me Forrest."

Forrest looked to the side and grunted low in his throat, biting his tongue against snapping at the woman. When his attention darted back to her face he was controlled, spoke slow and low. "You would have done well stayin in Franklin… the city has changed you." Chicago had made Maggie a bitter woman.

"Chicago has a tendency to do that to a girl." The way she said it, with a hint of a sexy smile made it clear that's how she liked it.

Forrest grunted feeling the entire awkward conversation had been a waste of time, "It's your own choices that did it Maggie."

"Are you asking me to come home?" those pretty baby blues were wide and hopeful, wanting to be swept away and cared for.

Standing from his seat he looked down at the beautiful redhead. "Good bye Maggie."

For a split second she looked distraught, chewed her lip then said it slowly and with defeat, "I'll do it." She stood and motioned for him to sit. "Wait here."

Thirty minutes and two cups of coffee later Forrest looked up to see a disgruntled Maggie shimmy through the door out of the evening cold. "Suite 2334." Sullen she offered her hand in a final hand shake. "She must be something really special for you to chase after her."

* * *

A few days had passed since her arrival, most of the time spent locked up tight in the fancy suite they upgraded her to, sleeping and ordering room service. Charlie was moping, she knew that, but everyone was entitled to a good sulk now and then. Christmas with Martha had been wonderful. She'd sat down at the family table just as she had as a child and partook in their dinner. The house was just as grand as she remembered, opulently decorated for the holidays. They traded gifts and in true Banner fashion Martha had gone completely overboard. Where Charlie had given her a lovely clutch Martha gave her a mink stole. For Floyd Charlie gifted a tie pin... and he wore it every time she'd seen him since.

When she'd come calling her second day in town Martha had been overjoyed and Floyd, when he arrived home in the evening, looked entirely unsurprised to see her. He said no word about it, just pulled out a cigarette and took a seat while Martha prepared his drink.

"Charlotte is going to join us for the Holidays darling," Martha gushed. "Make sure to garner an invite for her for the New Year's Eve Gala…"

His only answer was the smallest of winks at the blonde and a long slow pull of his cigarette. Charlie could care less about a fancy dress party to ring in 1932 but Martha was so excited to have her. "We'll go shopping tomorrow and get you something appropriate to wear," Her eyes went down to the simple cotton dress with a look of disapproval. Country fashions were clearly not appreciated by the queen of Chicago.

Charlie simply laughed quietly knowing the determined woman would get her way.

"Tommy can escort you." That was all Floyd added to the conversation.

The way her eye narrowed made it clear she knew what he was up to. She looked back to Martha as the woman made a list of things they would have to do to prepare her. It had been an ordeal, plain and simple. The dress was easy enough, there were only three or four shops in town that Martha Banner would even consider walking inside, the day of grooming was not. Charlie had been poked, prodded, plucked, waxed and painted. By the time she climbed into the car with Martha she could hardly recognize herself.

Red velvet hugged her body, draping to enhance and with and very art deco gemmed cutout in the back. Matching red lips sat below eyes decorated into smoldering beauty, thin painted brows raised above. A fanned jeweled piece sat in her sculpted curled hair glittering like diamonds, catching the light when she moved and mimicking the sparkle of the crystals worked into the neckline of her dress and the straps that crossed her back.

It had been a lively raucous party where the music was loud the dancing wild and the liquor decadent. As she smiled and laughed a part of her could not help but wonder at the self-indulgence excess with so many starving outside. Everyone who was anyone was there, movie stars, politicians… all plying Charlie with an endless amount of champagne and conversation, thinking she was somehow access to the powerful Mad Dog Floyd Banner.

Tommy was fast at her side, as was a collection of men set to watch over Martha and her niece… just in case. She danced, snacked on caviar, and felt accepted even if the lifestyle made her uncomfortable. Floyd took her on a spin round the dance floor and asked her what she wanted for the New Year.

She laughed, "Stop pestering me and just let me enjoy the utter ridiculousness of the moment."

Suave in his tuxedo and slicked back hair Floyd asked, "How long you planning to stay in town Blackbird?"

"Until I feel like going home."

The use of the word _home_ made him give her a cheeky smirk. "Trouble in backwoods paradise?"

It showed in her eyes, a brief flash of humiliation. "I'm sure this won't surprise you but apparently I am considered a bad influence on one of the Bondurant boy's sweetheart… I was accused of making her unfeminine… amongst other things. I'm single handedly ruining the women of Franklin."

The infamous mobster burst out laughing so hard several nearby turned to look at them, "Did you sock him?"

"I slapped him really hard…"

Floyd's blue eyes were glittering as he spoke in his lilting Chicago accent, "I like your gumption. Who cares what a bunch of hicks think… they keep their women barefoot and ignorant. If you marry a man like Tommy the world will be at your feet and could do what you wanted."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "I don't like Tommy."

"You don't have to." He shrugged. "Have a piece on the side. Your skills are wasted lazing about in the country. You belong in Chicago. Help guide him in the business and you would have access to money, power…"

"As charming as leading a criminal empire from the shadows sounds, I will pass. Though I am honored you find me worthy _Uncle Floyd_." Her grin was glorious though her tone was cautionary. "Stop plotting my future, I know what I want."

"I just want what's best for you Blackbird." He gave her a spin that made her laugh.

Jutting out a stubborn chin with a playful grin she disagreed, "Oh no… you want what's best for you."

"Course I do." He was teasing her again though they both knew the words were true.

When the countdown came and the glittered confetti was tossed madly in the air Tommy pressed a kiss to her cheek and tried to cuddle her close. Politely disengaging she made her farewells and found herself back at the Drake, her escort following her through the door in the wee morning hours.

She was a vision right off the silver screen as she moved through the lobby, the long clingy skirt of her velvet gown swaying around her feet and glittering over her bosom. The smile on her face was genuine as she turned toward Tommy Kennedy and offered a hand. "Thank you for seeing me back Tommy."

He took her fingers and kissed them, ignoring her less than amused look at the act. "You really should try to get to know me Lottie."

Incredulously she rolled her eyes and pointed at the scar on her lower lip. "I have known you since I was eight."

"Come on now… that's not fair." His sculpted face and debonair looks fashioned in to a pout.

He was flirting so flawlessly that she actually chuckled, "Good night Tommy. I'd tell you to stay out of trouble but I doubt you have the capacity."

Laughing wickedly he swept forward and quickly pressed a kiss to her cheek. She was pushing against his chest while he playfully laughed. Just as he was about to whisper in her ear a dangerous voice sounded.

"Get your goddamn hands off of her."

Tommy's expression was one of total amusement as he looked up and found none other than Forrest Bondurant stalking forward looking ready to swing. "Your guard dog is barking at me Lottie."

The fist that connected with the gangster's jaw was thrown so quickly the man had no time to block. Tommy fell flat on his ass while Howard and Jack rushed forward to stand at their brother's back. They had the attention of the staff and a few of the party intoxicated guests making their way in.

"Stand down Forrest," Charlie demanded with wide eyes, her hands touching his broad chest in an attempt to stop the freight train of pain that was about to descend on the snarling Tommy rising from the ground.

Forrest gently pushed Charlotte aside and confronted the gangster. "I see you touch this woman again and I will break your fuckin hand."

"You may be a man of some influence in the hills you crawled out of Mr. Bondurant, but here in Chicago you threaten a man like me and I guarantee it will not bode well for you."

"A man like you?..." Forrest cocked his head studying the gentleman before him as he grunted in his throat. "All I, ah, see is a boy dressed up in a fancy tux counting on his connection with Floyd Banner to keep him from getting his throat slit." Forest raised his chin, letting his scar show as he stretched, sliding a finger along the scar for effect.

Standing with the Bondurants Charlie grit her teeth and explained, glaring at Tommy, "Do you know what kind of trouble it could cause tossing threats at the men who keeps you all in business? Got any idea what the country boys can do if you kick the hive Tommy? Even Banner knows which snakes not to tread on." She took the hiss out of her voice and faced him square. "Thank you for escorting me tonight. Please give my regards to Floyd when you see him later… and for your sake I would not mention this to your boss."

When Tommy narrowed his eyes and looked ready to argue Forrest interjected, "Best do as the lady says."

Charlie offered him her hand, hoping the conflict would be swept aside. With a cocky smile Tommy took it and once again brought it to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles simply to annoy the snorting man grinding his teeth at her side. When it was finished he turned on his heels announcing over his shoulder, "Good night Lottie. I really enjoyed our evening."

When the altercation was over sapphire blue eyes darted back and forth between the three Bondurant brothers. Howard was cagy and looked almost sober, wearing his best suit and clearly itching to take the damn thing off. Jack was staring at the floor also dressed to the nines and Forrest was still fuming but could not take his eyes off her body in that snug red velvet gown.

"Ummm, you look awful pretty in that fancy dress Charlie…" Howard offered trying to break the tension and the growing anger in the woman glaring at them.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three to explain just what the fuck you are doing here." Her voice could cut glass.

The intensely burning grey eyes darted up from her slim waist and locked on her gaze with fervor, "We came to bring you home."

"Bring me home…" She pinched the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. "By threatening Banner's closest kiss ass? By causing an uproar?"

"He had his hands all over you Charlotte," Forrest was growling lowly, sounding more animal and less man. "You may not fathom what it means to have someone lookin to protect you. You're used to men like Banner who have no qualm about putting you in the fire… that ain't the way the world's supposed to be. Someone touches one of ours and the Bondurants ain't gonna lie down."

He had just called her his. Lowering her hand Charlie looked at him long and hard and tried to read between the lines. "I can handle Tommy and his foolishness. Besides, this is my turf... what the hell do you think I need protection from here?"

Forrest took another step closer and grit out in a husky voice, "Chicago ain't safe for you."

Charlotte waved her hand and looked to the side in annoyance. "Chicago is not exactly safe for anyone… But I have ties here. Floyd-"

"Ohhh, Floyd Banner?" Forrest interrupted his voice growing hard as he met her eyes and challenged, "That man's the reason you shouldn't be here. Just associatin with him and his wife draws attention you don't need. How long before someone else come bangin on your door?" He was trying to intimidate with his soft spoken drawl and imminent nearness, aggressive and dominate.

Charlie stood her ground and met his stormy disapproving eyes. "You think I am mistaken for caring for the Banners? They are the only real family I have ever known, share a history with me you know nothing about. And though you may not like Floyd's methods I am alive today because of him and I am capable of caring for myself because of what he taught me."

"But you're lonely Charlotte," Forrest said it with such conviction. His gaze was full of energy, almost imploring her to open her eyes. "It's time you understood what the world really is… not just the little slice of familiar darkness you been livin in. You'll find that peace in Franklin where you can sit all you like and look at things, not going to fancy parties rubbing elbows with gangsters. It ain't pleasin to you, I can see it plain as day on your face."

That shut her up right quick. There was no response she could offer as her eyes looked away and her mind unwound his words. At length she took a breath and spoke. "No, it is not pleasing to me… but being near Martha and Floyd is. I'm included, cared for… Them knowing me for _exactly_ who I am and wanting me anyway."

The youngest stepped closer. "I'm awful sorry for the way I hollered at'cha Ma'am," Jack finally spoke up, making her look away from the complicated unreadable expression on Forrest's face. "For making you feel unwanted… I didn't mean it. I want-"

Charlie looked right at him with softer eyes and cut him off, "Jack, it's what I needed to hear."

"No Miss Charlie," Jack had his hat clutched to the point of bending the fine felt as he took a cautious step nearer. "Everything I said was wrong. Cricket telling you about us, drawing you to Franklin… its God's hand don't you see that? Franklin is where you belong."

"Jack's right for once Charlie," Howard was nodding before cocking his head "Come on home now."

She liked the sound of that word… home. Torn, she could not say a word; instead she looked back to Forrest, to his stability and confident toughness. He seemed so settled as his eyes took her in, impressed even, that she had not backed down... and glowed with something else she could not put her finger on. She waited for him to tell her she was wanted, needed him to say it.

"Howard, you take Jack and head on back now," Forrest grunted in a short command seeing that they were getting through to her.

"Sure thing brother Forrest," Howard acknowledged and nodded like a gentleman, "I'll see ya back in Franklin Charlie."

"Goodbye Miss Charlie," Jack added giving her that boyish eager smile that made him so charming.

The warmth of Forrest's hand landing firmly at her back as he moved her past his brothers and escorted her to the elevator was instantly comforting the chaos of her mind. She'd drunk too much champagne, had too much excitement, and the feel of something solid made her automatically lean closer.

When he confidently steered her toward her room Charlie's brows drew down and she glanced up from the corner of her eye to see the determined set of his jaw. Unlike his brother's he'd not said that he wanted her. But he had come to Chicago… so what did it mean?

Stopping at her door Charlie puzzled over him. "Good night Forrest." The heated weight of his gaze as he looked deep into her eyes set a spark in her belly.

"I'm putting you to bed." He already had dug the key out of her purse, ignoring the pistol, and had the door open. Taking her by the elbow he led her inside, locking the door behind him.

"I don't need a sentry at the door for crying out loud. Don't you get it? I can take care of my damn self!" Charlie complained but felt him brush her neck, tracing down her spine and quieting her until the complaint ended up as no more than a whisper, "Stop treating me like…"

He pulled her toward the center of the dark room, the lights coming through the window falling slanted upon them both. Charlie's eyes went wide as he simply began to take off his clothing, quick and concise about it. The jacked was hung on the back of a chair the she watched transfixed as his hands went to the cuffs of his shirt, unbuttoning them. The waistcoat was pulled off, the tie, suspenders slid down his arms. In less than a minute he was pulling down his trousers, standing naked as the day he was born, all the while watching her look over his body, eyes growing full of hunger and confusion as she studied the line of muscles and scars.

Swallowing thickly and struggling to find her voice as her eyes took in the straining proof of his desire, "What are you doing Forrest Bondurant?"

He began to circle her slowly skimming fingers over the places her skin was exposed by the red velvet. Tracing a line down her back, across the tops of her breasts, the line of her neck, watching her close her eyes and her breath quicken. Hot palms rested on her shoulders as his voice came heady with hunger, "I think you know what I'm doing…"

Sapphire eyes flashed open brimming with longing, needing to see if his eyes said what his words hinted at. Charlie had no idea how to answer as Forrest's deft fingers began to search out the dress for hooks, buttons, anything to slowly peel it from her soft glowing skin. He took his time and when his fingers spread the fabric at the back of her dress he gently pulled it down her trembling arms and she did not demur. Standing at her back he let the dress hang to her waist and fondled the full exposed breasts, feeling her lean back against his chest and sigh in pleasure. Full lips went to her neck, warm breath and nipping teeth that made her gasp and arch her breasts into his teasing callused hands, hardening her nipples to pebbled points.

She did not see it but felt a smile on his mouth as he went to lick her ear, biting the softer flesh and drawing out a whimper. Everything felt right as he touched her, the insecurity and guilt seemed to fade away. She desired him, knew a hidden part of herself had selfishly wanted the silent brooding man since she first laid eyes on him sitting in that old truck… and never thought he would want her. His hands touching her now felt freeing. Even more so was the fact Charlie knew this was not an act a man like Forrest Bondurant would take lightly, it meant more than any words he could say.

Forrest circled her again, brushing his thumb over the bullet wound scar near her navel before kneeling down. The remainder of her dress was tugged to pool at her feet, leaving her in only the lacy silk panties, garters, and stockings. He was a man who enjoyed the simple things in life, but goddamn if her underwear and all its frilly lace did not make his cock jump just looking at it hug her curves. Feeling it was a whole different level of decadence. Looking over her body he ran his hands up and down her flanks, her flat belly, looking up at her eyes. Those beautiful sapphire blue orbs were wide with a heady mix of emotion: ravenous desire, trepidation, longing, and affection for the man taking his time and touching her tenderly. Seeing her approval in her expression Forrest moved to unhook her garters, rolling the silk stockings down her smooth legs and off her toes. His hands went to the waist of her bloomers and like unwrapping a present he ever so slowly pulled them down, torturing them both with anticipation until they whispered down her legs and she was a bare as he was.

Full lips came to kiss her bullet wound scar, an injury that should never have marred his golden girl. He dipped his tongue into her navel, and heard her short breathy giggle that seemed both excited by the action and tickled. Repeating the action, with a firmer lap he heard her catch her breath and arch, delicate hands coming to run through his short hair.

Seething with need to bury his cock in those soft blonde curls between her legs Forrest drew in a deep steadying breath and stood, his pecker hot against the skin of her belly. Her hands were on him, tracing the scars and places he'd been stitched up, running soft fingertips across the long scar at his throat. She felt his muscles, the shape and hardness of the planes of his body, exploring him as he had done to her. When she strayed near his jutting cock and brushed against it a noise caught in his throat. She did it again, smirking wickedly until he gently took her by the wrist and pulled her hand away, his eyes burning as he backed her toward the bed.

He had not kissed her mouth yet, had waited, knowing once he got that taste of her he would struggle for control. When she lay beneath him she ruined his resolve. Leaning up her pretty sculpted lips Charlie initiated an intoxicating hungry kiss that made him groan. His hand ran down over her breasts, her belly, and came to the already slick petals of her sex. One stroke and she shuttered, arched, and was aching for him. Knowing it was her first time he readied her, used his fingers as he had before to build up a fire until she was dripping wet. Forrest left her mouth, kissed her jaw, each nipple, dipped his tongue in her navel again as her body jumped and clenched around the two fingers that slipped in and out of her heat, while the pad of his thumb stroked her pearl.

Charlie's eyes were closed, so caught up in the feeling the man could create that she did not realize where his mouth was going until the hand that had been giving her such pleasure disappeared and hot breath blew over her sex. Eyes flying open she met the intense grey gaze just as his tongue came out to taste her, delving in as if all he ever wanted was her sweet honey.

Nothing, nothing on the planet could possibly offer such wicked bliss. The sound that came from her throat as her hips rolled closer to that languorous tongue was sinful. She was gone, swept away in what he was doing. His hands spread her thighs further before he began to flick her pearl with the tip of his tongue and two fingers slide back into her center, pulsing at the speed of his mouth. She was wrong… there was greater bliss.

Forrest was amazed at the responsiveness of her body, how much she reacted to his touch. She trusted him, his golden girl, and he was gonna do right by her. It was not long before she was squirming, rolling her hips to his rhythm, and whimpering out with each breath. When her climax came he added a third finger to stretch and prepare her for what was coming, knowing he was larger than most and that his cock would hurt her if he wasn't careful. Bucking against his mouth she called his name the most beautiful way he had ever heard it spoken and Charlotte shattered into a million little pieces.

Her mouth was open, breasts heaving as she panted and saw stars. He kept those fingers inside her wet quivering tunnel, still carefully pulsing as he kissed his way to her breasts, lavishing them with his slippery tongue and nipping teeth before sucking hard and slowly reigniting her desire. When her vice clenched and pulsed anew he, at length, took his hand away to smear her wetness on his rock hard cock.

"Look at me Charlotte," He growled above her, running the head of his pecker up and down her wet folds, teasing and enticing.

Those big blue eyes fluttered open and her lips formed the softest of wondrous smiles. Forrest knew she was not the type of woman who feared a little pain, she would want it over with quickly even if it might hurt more initially. With his eyes glowing for her, his brow determined he pressed a kiss to her mouth and thrust in hard, straight through her maidenhead and held himself buried to the hilt as she bit back a pained throaty groan.

It was pure torture for him to be surrounded by such tight wet heat and remain motionless. Watching her face for the softening of her brow he kissed her nose, her cheeks, her jaw, and waited. It was not long before he felt a deep breath leave her and he instinctually knew what to do. Small little rolling movements of his hips ground against her, massaging her down below with his body, easing the hurt. She began to relax and met his eyes, asking with her gaze for him to kiss her. Tongue mimicked the penetration of her core as he undulated, felt her grow even wetter in a signal that her body was ready for him to thrust.

Whatever pain there had been at first was gone. Each plunge of his member was met with her eager hips, her hands running over his muscled back and backside, sometimes pulling him in faster. Her legs wrapped around his frame as her arms held his perfect weight close. It was utter bliss tucked so tightly between her willing thighs. He got her good and worked up, marveling in the scent of her, the heat and perfection in the way she sheathed him until he was thrusting fast and hard. He knew he should be gentle with Charlotte her first time but the way she was calling to him, clutching at his rear and urging him on Forrest lost control and rutted like a stallion. When she screamed out, her tunnel going wild and milking him, he groaned, grunted, and spurted his seed deep into her womb.

Once he gained his senses Forrest kissed her with every fiber of his being, drawing out the sweetness of the moment until the little trembles they both were feeling faded into the deep abiding calm after good lovin. His chest was pressed to hers and the fluttering heartbeat and sweat slicked skin a comforting blanket. Unwilling to leave her body he looked down at the golden girl, hair spread wild and pretty, mouth swollen, and eyes full of softness for him.

The way he was looking at her, the abiding intensity she once thought was a glare… she now could see was so much more. He was soaking her in, watching her with all his attention; it made her feel precious and every bit a woman. Running her fingers through his short hair her own eyes took in all the angles of his face, resting longest on his lips. She traced them with her finger tip, felt her breath slowing and heart leveling out, then kissed him for all she was worth in gratitude.

* * *

Forrest woke wrapped up in Charlotte, feeling the warmth of her naked skin against his flesh. The midday sun streamed in through the window, giving him a perfect view of her naked leg that had somehow escaped the covers. She was sprawled, still deeply sleeping, and no wonder… Forrest had gluttonously reached for her twice more in the dark, his thirst insatiable with her soft and naked beside him. There was no stopping what she made blaze in his gut and each time he touched she purred, when he moved to claim her she welcomed him, let him do as he pleased and became an eager student as he initiated her in the ways of love.

Aside from the physical release he needed her again and again just to see the unguarded look of adoration in her eyes after her climax. To have the woman look on him so lovingly, to be so exposed, the view was intoxicating and he wondered if he'd ever get enough.

Looking down at his own body he could see light pink smears where her virgin blood had mixed with their fluids. A pang of guilt at his greed followed the sight, knowing she would be sore from all the rough handling. Moving carefully Forrest climbed from the soft bed and walked naked crossed the room to wash himself and fill up the tub for her. She had only lived at the station for a week but he'd paid close attention to her habits, knew she liked to languish in the bath, that she had left it full for him too once or twice to sooth him after a long day. He washed himself quick and thorough before preparing fresh hot water for her and using her toothbrush, hoping she wouldn't take offence.

A knock came to the door. Wrapping a towel around his lower half he looked to the bed to find the golden girl still dead to the world. Forrest took her rifle in hand and opened the door just a crack.

The mobster did not look surprised to see him standing there practically naked. "I heard about the little scuffle last night… Think it's time we had a talk," Banner spoke conversationally but with a quirk to his lips and a knowing in his eyes. "How about a cup of coffee?"

Scanning the hall Forrest found the infamous mafia kingpin alone and unperturbed, grunting deep in his throat and looking back at the man with hard danger in his grey eyes.

"Don't worry about Lottie. She was always a late sleeper if given the chance, and from the looks of you you wore her out good." Banner added after a puff of his cigarette. "I'll be waiting in the café downstairs."

That said the man simply turned and left. Eyes narrowed Forrest watched him go, gaging what on earth Banner wanted this time. The idea of leaving Charlotte in the room alone, even in broad daylight was not one he relished but Forrest knew a man like Banner would have his _coffee_ even if it meant sending men up to drag him from the room.

After turning off the tub Forrest quickly dressed, scribbled a note on the hotel stationary:

_Went for coffee. Tubs full._

The moment Forrest took a seat at the table with Floyd two cups of coffee appeared. The mobster's legs were crossed and for a moment Banner simply worked his jaw, looking to the side before speaking.

"I know what you think of me in regards to my Blackbird," Floyd suddenly started speaking before taking a sip of coffee. "But you don't know her like I do."

Forrest said nothing, simple picked up his mug and took a long sip, grey eyes never blinking or breaking contact. Mr. Banner squinted, impressed with the man's lack of fear.

"That kid was tough as nails. Once saw her bite a man's ear clean off," Floyd lit a cigarette, exhaling in a burst of smoke. "No joke."

"What do you want Floyd?" Forrest was thoroughly acrimonious and certain he should be with the golden girl, not the devil who so-called raised her.

"Heard she defended me to you, called me her family… Well, in her way." There was an arrogant smirk as his lips rounded the cigarette.

That was said after Tommy had left. Narrowing his eyes Forrest understood. Banner had kept an eye on the woman from the second she stepped into Chicago. Had her watched over. Clearly he did care for her welfare.

Nodding as if knowing Forrest's thoughts Floyd asked in a friendly tone, "Lottie tell you how we came to be close?"

Forrest acknowledged in a monotone drawl, "You bonded over a pistol pointed at her skull."

"No…" Floyd looked amused at the assumption. "I took her in that night cause it just felt wrong to have a little girl croak in the gutter… thought she'd die from the bullet wound once she was on my desk. Imagine my surprise when the little bastard lived."

Forrest growled at the word and clenched his teeth.

"No need to get upset." With the cigarette dangling between his lips Floyd looked down to the table with a smirk, tapped it with his finger to signal the waitress for more coffee then looked up, those devilish blue eyes still sparkling. "About six weeks after _the incident_," he chuckled, "I had her laboring for me round the office. A hard worker that one. She was fast and kept out from underfoot, good at anticipating the needs of those around her. One warm summer night there was a drive by, two trucks full of Capone's thugs. They shot up my store front, killed half a dozen of my men and got me in the shoulder. They were swarming in, guns blazing and I was outnumbered. Out of nowhere tiny Blackbird stands up with a tommy gun while my own men were cowering and emptied it like a champ into the enemy. She killed them all, going so far as to walk outside and shot the scum trying to flee in the back. When it was done she set the gun down and went right to cleaning up. She saved my life, my business… I took her home to meet Martha that night."

"How very touching…" Forrest's eyes had only gone harder through Banner's little tirade. "Saved by a little girl."

"She wasn't an ordinary little girl. She was an automaton on a fucking mission from God." Banner became totally serious. "Nothing, and I mean nothing would deter her. I offered to take her in, Martha wanted to keep her. Lottie refused, claiming she had to take care of her mother… the mad woman didn't even know who Lottie was half the time, couldn't even feed herself most days.

"So you're some fucking saint for exposing her to your business?" Forrest rolled his eyes and felt the coffee churn in his gut.

"She would have gone to another _man of business_ if I didn't keep her on. Probably even Capone himself if she felt the need to." The warning look in Floyd's eyes made it clear Forrest was on thin ice. "Keeping her close she was as safe as she'd let herself be. I took care of her and taught her how to take care of herself."

Clearing his throat the brawny country boy leaned back in his chair, real comfortable like. "Couldn't have kept her that safe if she left."

"She killed one of my men," a puff of nonchalant smoke came out with the totally unworried voice. "A real piece of work who had a tendency to be a little rough with women. I suspect he figured out what she was and tried to have at her. Found his severed pecker clear across the room from his body. Dressing like a boy kept her alive and employed. The older she got the harder it was to hide, the guys were starting to notice that Blackbird never needed a shave… never pissed in front of them. Gangsters tend to be a stupid lot but after nine years…" Floyd was laughing while he lit up a second cigarette.

He was still waiting for the mobster to get to the goddamn point. Waiting in silence Forrest sat still, radiating menace.

"Don't think I don't know what she's been doing… hunting down her daddy and god knows who else." Blue eyes looked on grey, "I never knew someone with the skill for remembering a face like she's got. Always knew who was who and where they, as she liked to put it, liked to play. Now that her nightmare Ronnie Pearson is gone, now that she's free of that woman, I want to see her settled."

The scowl deepened, "She ain't gonna marry no Tommy Anderson just to please you."

"No," Blue eyes danced with mirth, "can't say that she will. I already told her if she married Tommy she could effectively run my business when I retire in all but name. It didn't need to be a regularly consummated union if you get my drift… she could have whoever she pleased on the side. Lottie refused." After a long inhale and a good hum of smoke Floyd simply said, "I want her to be happy… but I know my Blackbird, she was made for greater things than the country life."

"You think you know what's best for her?" Appalled his voice grew grainy and deep as Forrest stood from his chair and leaned menacingly over the table. "You don't know a fucking thing about her."

"I'm the nearest thing she has to a father." Though his tone was conversational there was a quality to it that was commanding to the extreme. There was a reason Mad Dog Floyd Banner was so powerful and it was showing full blown at that moment. "Lottie is independent and will do as she pleases… but I got my eye on you Forrest Bondurant. You make one misstep with my girl and I'll cut your goddamn head off personally."

A look of utter disbelief crossed Forrest's normally glowering face. This was not a negotiation for Charlotte, this was a father having _the talk_ with a suitor… Everything about it was disturbing. Almost dumbfounded Forrest retook his seat and gulped down his coffee, brows low as he saw the grave warning on Banner's face.

"You'll always have to share her with her family in Chicago. My Martha is real keen on having her around and a wise man does not deny his wife anything she wants." After those parting words Floyd stood and left without so much as a goodbye

Forrest left a moment later, eyes darting around the room as he made his way back to the golden girl.

* * *

The note he left her made her smirk… a man of few words even on paper. The tub was still steaming when she entered the bathroom. Lowering her sore body into the enveloping heat made her groan then sigh as the ache in her hips and the mild tenderness between her legs was soothed. Charlie had listened to the raunchiest stories from the boys, overheard detailed descriptions of sex and knew of some of the more risqué things lovers did… and never in a million years thought Forrest would want to do them to her.

Even worn out the thought of his tongue dancing between her legs was making her flush, her nipples harden, and the ache became a very different sort of feeling. Running soap over her skin filled Charlie's mind with licentious thoughts... she was turning out to be a disreputable harlot. The thought made her snort a laugh and slip deeper into the water. Hearing the door open and close Charlie automatically reached for the rifle leaning against the lip of the tub and called out. "Forrest? That you?"

"Yeah."

Her heart slowed. She saw him peek in at her as she leaned the riffle back in its resting spot and was unsure if the glare was one of approval or reprimand. "Come on in and keep me company."

The door swung in and he arrived devoid of his coat but looking mighty fine in the shirt and waistcoat. His eyes were skimming the glistening skin exposed by the top of the foamy water as she ran a sponge over her arms. "You feelin alright?"

The downright wicked grin she gave him made Forrest fractionally raise his brow. "I have come to the conclusion that in one night you have made me a shameless woman Forrest Bondurant. The things you did to me… I don't expect many women get made love to quite so thoroughly."

She saw his throat move as he swallowed, the immediate darkening of his eyes, and the instant swelling of his impressive manhood in his pants. Charlie knew he would not answer her, his preferred form of communication nonverbal. When he looked about ready to pounce then hesitated she raised a brow and bit her bottom lip. He gave out a groan like a tied up dog, eyeballing her like a bone beyond his tether.

"Something on your mind?" Her voice was innocent but her eyes were large and staring straight at the tent in his trousers.

"You keep talkin like that and lookin like you are," He growled unwilling to be daunted by one wet teasing woman, "And you're gonna end up in some trouble."

Charlie was grinning as she stood, water running down her clean pinkened skin. "I quite like your brand of trouble Mr. Bondurant."

He could not stop himself, knew he should let her body heal, but took her in his arms like a goddamn maniac. She squealed and giggled as he swept her up and carried her to the bed, tossing her down and embracing her as she bounced. His new suit grew damp as she pressed her warm wet skin against him, working the buttons of his vest in a slow exploration as his tongue moved between her lips. It was slow tender loving and just what the doctor ordered.

When they were both satisfied Charlie nestled into the side of his body, tracing his scars as she hummed contented and comfortable. He was watching her, looking at where she touched, her face, one rosy nipple on display as he pressed his warm hand in long slow strokes against her hip.

"There is another place I need to go before I return to Franklin. It will be a four or five day trip if I hurry," she mumbled in a relaxed murmur.

The strong arm around her tightened as his scowl landed right on her face. Charlie felt him tense under the fingers drawing random patterns on his chest and belly.

One angry grunt, "Where?"

Leaning up she put her chin on his chest and looked as if she were debating on telling him, as if it were a monumental thing that took away her comfort. "I…" she looked away then whispered it very low, "I need to visit my mother."

"Is that where you been going when you sneak out of town?" He narrowed his eyes and looked confused. "Wait. Didn't you tell Floyd she passed on?"

Pursing her lips she explained, "I implied as much… Not a soul knows where she is, I wouldn't want someone going after her cause of me." There was pain in her expression, the remainder of a deep abiding sorrow. "I, uhh, should be back by Thursday latest if I leave directly from Chicago tonight."

She felt the growl reverberate through his chest, as he looked hard at her. "You want me to go with you?"

"I do not. You have your own business to attend to and… it would be disturbing for you."

Forrest was not a squeamish man. "Why?"

Her fingers scratched lightly over his chest hair. "You ever seen a deranged person?"

"No…" he expression made it clear she was expected to continue.

"You are one of very few people who know what I am and what I come from… but knowing and seeing are two different things."

"And you think it will frighten me off." It was a low spoken statement not a question.

"I'd like to think you're a better man than that," she expressed putting her ear over his heart. "I just… I'm not…"

He knew what she was unable to say. She was scared he would see the darkest parts of her life and be affected. Considering how self-conscious she was just being a woman this must be a whole new level for her. The fact the she even told him about it was probably a huge step; she was trusting him with her greatest secret.

Forrest went back to stroking her hip. "I'll pick you up at the train station if you like."

He felt her smile and resume trailing her fingers across his flesh, "I would like that. Last train Thursday night."

* * *

**Thanks for reading, Please Review, Favorite, and Follow.**


	12. Chapter 11

**Whenever I come back to the state I enevibtably get some nasty cold... Im feeling gross but also guilty so I climbed out of bed to send this your way. Shout out to:** **marulk, Guest x, ChaosEver, and AvalonTheLadyKiller for the reviews and for generally being awesome!**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Coming back to the station after being gone for a fortnight felt like coming home. Charlie realized it was a ridiculous notion, especially considering she had only lived there about a week before her trip. But when her train came to a halt and Forrest was there on the platform just as he said he'd be she could not stop smiling.

He took her suitcases and carried them to her car. She'd given him her car keys when they parted in Chicago, seeing no need to leave her Ford parked at the depot. Yet having him pick her up in her beat up old car made her raise a brow. The thing was tricky to drive, required a firm hand and constant attention. Charlie liked her car regardless, had kept it running with its sticky clutch and rattling engine. After opening the passenger door for her she asked, "You sure you want to drive this thing Forrest, it can be a little ornery. Probably gave you a heap of trouble just trying to get it home."

"I been working on it while you were gone, runs smooth now," he said around the cigar between his lips.

Blushing she gave him a grateful smile and scooted close after he settled in and started the engine. It sounded a whole hell of a lot better. "Wow… I'm impressed. Thanks."

He grunted, grey gaze darting a proud glance at her from the corner of his eye and drove them out through the light falling January snow. Scooting close Charlie rested against his heat, her head on his shoulder as she took in the beauty of the woods. Farmer's almanac stated that heavy snows were coming and it looked as if nature had given her just enough time to get back to Franklin before a storm would have made it impossible.

"How was your mother?"

Charlie gave a comfortable hum, nestling closer against his shoulder before answering, "She looked healthy and well-tended to. We talked a little, that's rare, so all in all I would say that she is doing well."

He made his typical grunt. The silence was solace and soon Forrest looked down to see she was sleeping, wondered how far she'd traveled rushing to get home for the late Thursday train. He should have felt guilty about it, he knew that, but he did not. He wanted her there and was going to do his damnedest to keep her settled in one spot for as long as he could. Looking at her golden waves he knew it was going to be a feat of pure will, she darted around like a damn hummingbird.

They pulled up to the station and Forrest parked around back. When no one was looking he pressed a kiss to her hair, waking her gently and watching those big sapphire eyes bat at him. "We're home. Come on now let's get out of the cold."

Even parked at the back she could hear the commotion inside. It was a busy night, full of locals looking to socialize and drink before the weather kept them home. Forrest led the way through the back door, Charlie following tiredly behind as he took up her suitcases up the stairs.

"Uhhh," Forrest paused at the landing and looked over his shoulder at the slender female in his shadow. "I don't have the proper furniture for all your fine dresses…" He cleared his throat before ducking into the spare room. "Come springtime I can build you something… or if you like, I will move something from this room to that. Unless you want your own space that is…" The suitcases were laid on her bed as she watched him struggle with the words. "Thought you might like a say in where it goes, since you have an eye for decoratin and such."

He was sputtering and looking away, then back, trying to focus to say what sounded rehearsed. The tips of his ears were red when he saw the pleased smile creep over her face. He was charming, all befuddled. Funny how he could use that tongue on her body in the most brazen ways but stringing a sentence together asking if she wanted to sleep in his room was like torture.

Forrest realized his point had been poorly made and just grunted it out. "Which room do you prefer?"

Her hands went to his forearms, stroking up as she stepped in close to his heat. "Whichever one you are in Mr. Bondurant." Her forehead rested at his heart as she lightly embraced him, unsure if he would like the contact.

He put his nose to her hair, strong arms around her as he mumbled something unintelligible. Running his warm hand down her flank Charlie stiffened then step back with an apologetic, "Sorry."

Moving a step away she purposefully did not answer the question in his eyes and opened the nearest suitcase. The pieces of her rifle were wrapped in an old towel. She began to assemble the weapon, locking the stock to the barrel and loaded it as he stood behind her.

Forrest saw a flash of familiar green under the towel and using his finger flicked the fabric over. "Forgive me for asking Charlotte, but why do you got a suitcase full of money?"

"I robbed a bank," she said deadpan, leaning the riffle against the wall.

When he did not laugh she looked over her shoulder to see his eyes narrowed. Chuckling a little she clarified, "I'm kidding Forrest," then looked back to the piles of cash and pursed her lips. "I picked up a little cash on the way back to Franklin, should see me through for a while."

A little cash his eye. There had to be at least three grand in that suitcase, maybe five. "Where did you get money like that?" He sounded almost angry.

She looked marginally confused, cocking her head to the side. "I'm a bounty hunter Forrest… it's a lucrative profession if you're good at it… and I am."

He came to her, stood before her and reached out a warm hand to her ribs again. She did not flinch like the last time but he could see the discomfort in her eyes when he squeezed. The quality of his tone dropped down to a low growl. "How bad he hurt you?"

"Not bad," she tried to sooth realizing he was growing irate. "In the city where I keep my mamma I saw a familiar face with a hefty bounty. After I visited her I simply picked him up, rushed to take him to the feds so that I could be back here with you on time. He is a dangerous man and belongs in prison… where he will rot; an easy mark and one less scumbag out on the streets."

"How bad Charlotte?" Those full lips were pulled back over his teeth in a snarl.

"A few cheap shots to the ribs… nothing broken, just a little sore." She put her hand over his. "See, I'm fine… just tired is all."

If he had not made her rush she might not have been hurt. But what the hell was she doing bounty hunting? "You don't need to live that life anymore woman."

She stroked her hand over his, watching his grey eyes storm at her. "If God sees fit to have a wanted man walk right under my nose I see it as my duty to act. I could not leave him unchecked."

"You have nothing to atone for damn it! No more Charlotte." The animal growl was back as his other hand came to cup her face. "The police could have handled it."

She shook her head. "If ordinary lawmen could take in a man like that then bounty hunters would not exist in the first place. We get to break the rules… so long as we deliver. And I have never lost a bounty. A few bruises are nothing and a whole lot of people are now much safer. This is how I make my way. Please don't get riled up when you already know what I am… or do you have no faith in my ability or skill?"

That was not a question or topic a man should have to consider about his woman… but he could not say that to her without hurting her. He looked over her body, eyes lingering where their two hands held her wound. There was not a trace of a mark on her anywhere he could see. Knuckles free of bruises and face unmarred.

"I don't like it." That was all he was going to say.

"You don't have to," she whispered before pressing a quick kiss to his tense mouth. "But you also deal with rough men. We are what we are. You are one tough son of a bitch and I am a killer with that riffle." She was teasing a little, biting her lip and eyes sparkling. "We would be one hell of a team."

She was buttering him up good, using her tone and nearness to distract from his temper. His hands went to the buttons of her dress, determined to see for himself. She let him pull the cotton to her waist followed by her slip. Once exposed a smattering of dark bruises decorated her left side where callused fingertips gently touched. Forrest growled, that deep throaty noise he made when irritated, knowing this was more than a few punches. The man had swung at her with something.

"See, just a few bruises… in exchange I shot him in the knee. He won't ever walk right again," She was teasing in her tone as she began to pull up the straps of her slip.

He stopped her, pressed the heat of his hand to her skin and met her eyes. It was clear from the way her lids drooped that his hand was comforting, soothing whatever ache she might have. The show she'd given was starting to wane and Forrest could see plain as day his golden girl was very tired. Fixing her attire he buttoned her up tight and asked softly, "Do you want to take your supper up here?"

Shaking her head against his chest she smiled tiredly. "No… I don't need to be spoiled, besides… I have a new joke for Howard."

He gave her that look, that long look that said about a million things and nothing at all. "Alright then."

Sleepy she trudged down the steps in his wake. Whatever drowsiness she'd been feeling was quickly diminished when Howard swept her up and spun her about until she was screaming with laughter despite the pain in her ribs.

"Well looky here," Howard chanted before setting her down and watching her wobble, unsteady from his game. "You think you're dizzy now just wait until you try this new batch of blackberry lightning. It will burn the sense right out of you."

"That's enough Howard," Forrest announced agitated. "Don't be rough with her now."

"It's nice to see you both." Ignoring Forrest Charlie took the jar Howard was offering with a grin and gave it a sip. It was heaven. "I don't think I'm giving this back." She took another sip and just walked off with it leaving Howard laughing and Jack snickering beside him.

"It's damn good to have you home," Howard offered at her back.

Taking her usual seat everything felt just right when Howard took his spot and Jack came to lean against the bar. Something was cooking on the stove, a rich looking stew and her eyes glazed over just staring at it.

"I swear the way you look at food," Howard was chuckling into a new jar. "It's almost indecent Charlie."

Shooting him a wry grin she winked. "What have you been up to while I was gone?"

"Nothing much, it's been quiet as a tomb these last few days."

Putting her chin to her chest Charlie cocked a brow. "Liar… I can see the shoddy stitches in your left knuckles." Looking to Jack she realized he was favoring his right leg… "So a brawl?"

"Naw," Jack said with a shake of the head. "Just a little fun."

"I bet." She took another swig. "Who'd you kill?"

The way the brothers both went just a little stiff Charlie knew she's hit the nail on the head. Looking at Howard she asked for full effect, "He ain't in the soup is he?"

She could see he was trying with all his power not to laugh, it lasted all of about ten seconds before Howard was bellowing so hard he could hardly breathe. When Forrest came over he found Jack red faced, Charlotte looking innocent as a lamb, and Howard just about to fall out of his chair he was laughing so hard.

"Jack, set out supper for Charlotte then get on the grill," Forrest ordered taking the seat between Howard and Charlotte. "Howard stop lazing about."

The rich stew was set before her and Forrest lingered long enough to watch her take that first bite… hoping to see that contented face and sigh she usually made over his cooking. It was instant. With a nod he got back to work, negotiating an upcoming transaction with a long time client, Howard at his side looking gruff while she took her supper and chatted with Jack.

The radio was playing some of the new swing music that was all the rage in Chicago, a vibrant sound that matched well with the din behind her. Even surrounded by all the noise Charlie put her chin in her hand and closed her eyes, comfortable with a full belly.

"Charlie, you look just about ready to fall asleep in that chair," Jack stated as he picked up her bowl.

Realizing she'd been dozing she muttered an apology, "Sorry, I have not slept in a few days."

"Why on earth not?" Jack looked a little concerned, leaning closer and noticing the dark smudges beneath her eyes.

"Don't you bother with Charlotte's doings," Forrest stated quietly having eased up beside her as she rested, full lips holding an unlit cigar.

Playful Charlie tried to hide her exhaustion and looked to the youngest Bondurant. "So Jack, did you make up with Bertha yet?"

He nodded with a grin, straightening his lapels. "And I took her shooting."

There could not have been a better answer to her question, she was looking at him with pride to see he set his own aside. "I'm sure she enjoyed it."

The way he blushed it was clear they both had, and that Bertha had expressed her gratitude in a very… feminine way.

"Are you blushing Jack Bondurant?" A slow spreading impish grin alit her red painted lips. "Was Miss Minnix _very_ grateful?"

The boy was almost purple as he turned back to the grill to flip some burgers in an effort to abstain from answering.

Howard sauntered up and took his seat with a sloppy plop. "Why you all red Jack?"

"Fuck you Howard, I ain't red," the youngest swore, once again preoccupied with the grill.

"I was just asking how grateful Bertha was for the lesson in firearms Jack obliged her with." Her grin was impish and her eyes sparkling with evil as she turned them on Howard.

Forrest leaned back against the bar, grunting and darting a glance at Charlie. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a book of matches ready to light the tobacco between his lips while Howard began to wheedle the boy. His grey eyes were saying a mouthful. She caught on and gave him a sheepish shrug, then looked at that full lip mouth as his struck a match and lit the cigar

"From the shade of purple he turned I would say very grateful," Howard was chuckling into his jar. "You should get a present for Miss Charlie… seeing as she's the reason and all you finally got a hand up that girl's skirt."

Leave it to Howard to take it too far.

"She ain't that kind girl!" Jack sputtered at the implied act of impropriety Howard was teasing him about.

Charlie put her face in her hands, fighting not to snort with laughter. "Ignore him Jack, he's just trying to get a rise out of you."

"You been courtin that girl for over a year and you ain't never got a hand up her skirt?" Howard sounded dumbfounded, appalled.

Jack spoke without thinking, "A gentleman don't just grab a lady and stick his hand up her skirt!"

Charlie could not bring herself to look at the youngest, and would sure as hell not look at Howard... if she did she would fall to pieces laughing. The only safe place was right at Forrest. The man indolently leaned back against the bar, his cocky eyes locked right on her, shining under the scowl. She glanced at the bar where he had done just that… and then right back at him, her own face growing warm. After a breath Forrest let out a puff of smoke, eyes promising to do a lot more than just stick a hand up her skirt next time they were alone. He continued to lean there, masculine and proud as he muttered low, "I think it's time you went on up to bed Charlotte, looks like you _need_ rest."

Doing as she was told she climbed from the stool with a nod, blushing something awful. "I think you may be right Forrest."

As her skirts disappeared up the stairs Howard looked to Forrest with the devil in his expression. "Jack, from the look in Forrest's eye I would say he might'n just have some advice for you in that department."

"I ain't got nothing to say to you two jackasses," Forrest muttered, deadpan, around his cigar.

"The hell you don't." Jack stared slack jawed at a man who was clearly swelling with pride. "How did you keep her from slapin you?"

Grey eyes moved in his skull to look at Jack with a raised brow at his dumb fuck question. Howard just slapped the bar top and shook his woolly head.

"Jack, sometimes a woman don't need a gentleman. Sometimes she needs a man." That was the final word Forrest would say on the subject.

Howard pursed his lips and took a loud sip from his jar thinking of the last woman he'd been with … he had certainly been no gentleman and that dame had loved every minute of it. Nodding in agreement he set down his drink and agreed, "Yup."

The hour was late by the time Forrest had locked up and meandered upstairs. A quick scrub and he found himself at his door, watching the golden girl fast asleep in his bed, head tucked on the new pillow he'd bought for her while she'd been gone. It sure was going to be nice to wake up next to something beautiful. Careful not to disturb her he slid between the sheets and moved real gently to hold her.

When morning came he was wrapped around her, his nose in her hair, breathing softly in his sleep as Charlie woke. The weight of his leg, tangled with hers and the reassuring arm around her middle made her smile. Moving carefully so as not to wake him Charlie tried to slip out of his grasp, only to hear him growl in his sleep and pull her closer. "Where you goin?"

Clearly he was not about to let her go. Turning in his arms to face Forrest she met his sleepy eyes, all soft and warm. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"S'alright," the husky morning voice slurred the words as his hand began to stroke her spine.

The silk of the blue nightgown was butter soft under his hand but not what he wanted to touch. He wanted the velvet of her skin. Running his hand from her hip he slipped under the fabric and moved to caress her curves, his arousal growing prominent between their close pressed bodies. Without hesitation she skimmed her slender fingers to his waist, pulled the drawstring of his pants and reached in to touch him.

How something could be so hard and so velveteen at the same time made her wonder. His sharp intake of breath was a sign she was doing something right as she caressed and stroked the part of him that brought her such satisfaction. Their first times together she had not been as free to touch him as she was now, he had been entirely wrapped up in touching her to give her the chance. When her fist squeezed a little tighter and she paid attention to the tip she felt his hips pump just a little into her grip and smiled against his neck.

Kissing a path across his scarred throat Forrest shivered. When she dipped down and tugged at his pants he lifted his hips to help her then just about lost his mind when her lips brushed the tip of his pecker, her tongue darting out to taste him. Before he could respond or think to speak her mouth took him in, warm wet lips enveloping the length of his shaft while her head descended further.

Involuntarily his hands tangled in her hair and he gave a low approving groan. Charlie had heard stories over the years of men describing this act, jokes about teeth, and a few tricks some whore had done to them. She employed what she remembered and when the hands tangled in her hair began to set a pace she knew he was in her power. Her fingers gripped his thighs, stroking and lightly scratching as her tongue played, sometimes running up and down, sometimes circling. Forrest himself was making quite a racket grunting and groaning each time she tried something new. Charlie loved it.

He was panting, looking down at her with wide eyes. "Charlotte darlin, you gotta stop." Just the appearance of her, looking him dead in the eye, lips curled in a smile around the head of his cock made his eyes roll back in his head. "If you keep doing goin at it I'm not gonna last much longer."

"Good, I want to know what you taste like," she whispered seductively before her mouth took him fully and she sucked with a hum of vibration.

That was his undoing. With a little convulsion he felt his balls clench and the first waves of euphoria, gushing into her mouth with a loud groan. When she kept going, swallowing and licking him clean, his eyes just about jumped out of his skull. Drained of seed he pulled her up gently and stared in fascination at her pink mouth when she licked her lips with no shame. No woman had ever done that to him before…

"Did I do good?" She asked seeing his eyes so wide and wondering if she maybe should have not used a whore's trick.

All he could do was gape, nod stupidly, and grunt. After a few heartbeats his gaze grew dark. "Who the hell taught you to do that?"

Snickering she rested against his chest. "Boys like to talk… that particular act seemed to be one of the more common subjects. I have heard it described in detail about a thousand times… probably not something a decent woman would do… if you don't like it though..." She was growing apprehensive and it showed in her voice.

"I like it just fine," Forrest interjected quickly, enthusiastic as he patted her back.

She'd never heard him so fervent and had to laugh as he held her against his chest, toying with the fabric of his nightshirt. When soft snores started coming from his lips she looked up amazed, "Well I'll be damned…"

Slinking away she could not believe the reaction she'd gotten out of something so simple… then thought of his tongue between her legs. Yup, she'd done something special. While going through her morning ablutions she tried to think back on any other naughty little techniques the boys had bragged about and began making a mental list, hoping Forrest would like them as much as he had her mouth on his pecker.

As she was coming down the stairs Jack and Howard stepped inside looking for breakfast. They both greeted her with a smile as she pulled on an apron and offered to test her skills.

Jack looked around and saw the missing brother was not in his office, "Where's Forrest?"

Charlie shrugged innocently. "Haven't the slightest. Maybe he went to town?"

There was six inches of snow outside the door and the truck was clearly parked out back. Howard gave her a long look but said nothing as she began to crack eggs into a bowl. Bacon, scrambled eggs, and last night's biscuits broke their fast. She was eating with a smile, happy that her cooking turned out decent.

"What do you Bondurant boys do when you can't bootleg due to weather?"

As if in answer Howard opened his coat and pulled out a jar, setting her to laughing.

"Well, if you're getting soused then I'm afraid you can't join me."

He shot her a smirk and took another sip. "What you got planned… gonna sit and look at snow?"

"I'm going hunting," she said with a devilish grin.

Howard gave a yawn and ruffled his curly hair. "That would explain the trousers…"

Jack was looking like he really wanted to go but was afraid of opening his mouth. She let him stew, if he could not muster up the courage to ask she was not going to take him. Boots sounded on the stairs and with bright eyes under the perpetual scowl Forrest silently joined them.

Charlie had the makings of his breakfast prepared and quickly began to cook the scrambled eggs and bacon. His eyes were on her backside in the trousers and failed to hear Jack mock him for growing sluggard. Howard just scratched his head and looked at the knowing smirk on Charlie's face reflected in the mirror above the grill.

"It ain't like you to sleep in Forrest," Jack said around a mouthful. "You sick?"

The man in question just grunted and looked to the plate of well-cooked breakfast Charlie slid before him. A cup of coffee soon followed causing him to nod at the smiling chef in thanks. When he took a bite and it was actually tasty he muttered after a sip of coffee, "It's real good Charlotte."

"You don't look sick," Jack continued… up to his usual hero worship. "But if you need I can help out today."

"I ain't sick Jack," Forrest growled growing annoyed. "Stop gawking at me and finish your damn food."

Howard was shaking his head, eyes squinted shut at his stupid little brother. That boy was about as bright as a broken light bulb.

Charlie made herself some tea and was looking out the window at the weather. It was overcast, but not snowing… perfect for what she had in mind. "You know Jack, Forrest may say he feels fine but I think a good walk in the fresh air will do him good." She set down her cup and met intrigued grey eyes with sparking sapphire. "What do you say you join me for a little hunting and let Jack keep tabs on the station today?"

Finishing his cup of coffee he simply stood up and went back upstairs to dress for the weather. An hour later they were deep in the woods stalking a doe that looked mighty tasty. Forrest was a good tracker, better than she expected, and Charlie let him take the lead. When they were near enough to make the kill he aimed his shotgun and missed, startling the doe. Charlie instantly had her riffle at her shoulder, reacting quickly to the running doe, hitting her right in the eye in a clean kill. _Blackbird never misses_, she thought with a smirk.

"How the hell you do that?" Forrest's pride was a little wounded.

Teasing she bit her lip and tried not to laugh at him. "I aim before I shoot."

Kneeling down next to him she put the rifle back to her shoulder and began to explain. "The gun is an extension of my body. I think of and feel it as if it were my arm instead of a piece of wood and metal. That way when I pull the trigger I know I will hit where my eyes look." She pulled the trigger again and shot an icicle across the way in a blast of sparkling frozen water. "See?"

Handing the rifle to Forrest she ignored the tight set of his jaw and nodded for him to shoulder it.

"Now feel like it's a part of you." Her hand went to his neck as her eyes looked to where she suspected he was aiming. "Relax, I can feel you all tense under my hand. Think of something nice and when your breath is natural and you are ready pull the trigger."

Forrest was thinking of something nice alright. When his finger put tension on the trigger the rifle blasted and he hit the target almost spot on. "While I'll be damned."

"The trick is to do it when things get sticky, to find that stillness. It's the reason most men can't aim for shit when it comes down to the wire. You pull out a pistol in the right mindset and you've already won." She was whispering as if tellng a secret of the ages.

His grey eyes were like molten pools of steel as he took her in, the serenity of her face as she looked forward at their kill and whispered in her soft voice, "We should take care of her."

Yes, he should take care of her. Before his golden girl could shift away from him he pressed warm lips to her ear, kissing her as she closed her eyes and nestled closer to that mouth. The heat of his breath against her skin made her shudder. He didn't smile as he looked down on the blushing golden girl, though his eyes were warm and the gentle caress he ran down her back soft.

Hungry sapphire eyes glowed to know she was wanted. "Here?"

His answer was to set the rifle aside and prowl over her with a grunt before taking her lips for the first time that day. Her mouth opened to his probing tongue, her body growing hot from the passionate determined look he'd leveled at her. Warm hands were suddenly everywhere on her body despite the layers of clothing, urging her in to a frenzy as he kissed her in the snow.

When his hands went to her belt he pulled her against him, met her eyes as if to explain before turning her round about and setting her on her knees. With Charlotte's hands braced on the fallen tree trunk they'd used for cover hunting the deer he tugged down her trousers and kneaded the firm flesh of her backside. Cold air on her arousal both teased her and made her crave his heat. She heard him fiddle with his buckle then felt him run the head of his cock up and down her folds, spreading the wet heat of her before he reached around to toy with her little pearl. The second he hit that spot, she arched and he thrust in, rousing her passionate moan.

He pulsed at the gate, teasing and taunting when he knew she wanted more. The fingers circling her hard little nub of pleasure were torture and she bucked back, urging him to thrust hard and give her what she craved.

Under the warm flannel of her shirt his other hand found her breasts, plucking her nipples and still denied her below. When she was so worked up that her breath was pants and she was a wild thing in his arms he pulled back and drove powerful into her heat, setting her to gasp out in pleasure. He rammed her again, jarring her body as he continued to tease with his hands. With each jerk she arched and her slick wetness began to soak the front of his trousers. She wanted faster, wanted him to stoke the blaze he was building inside her. Forrest finally gave her the powerful and long full thrusts she desired until he felt the tight clench of her femininity, the cries of her peak and nipped her earlobe just enough to make her call out his name as she came. Through it all he pushed on, letting himself enjoy her body and the fact she relished him taking her without restraint. Three more deep plunges into her grasping heat and his grip tightened, his back arched, and he came in a groaning shudder.

They were both breathless. Forrest's arms still held her and when he had his mind back from the stars he gave a low husky whisper at her ear, brushing her sensitive skin with his week's old stubble, "That was nothing compared to what I am going to do to you tonight."

The excited whimper of anticipation that passed through her throat made him swirl his tongue in the shell of her ear before pulling his cock from her and tugging up her trousers. He stood and righted his clothing, giving her a hand when she stumbled, a little shaky on her feet. Those sapphire eyes were locked on him with reverent astonishment. She knew any words the reserved man spoke should be taken very seriously and could not suppress the magnitude of lust in her eyes as she looked him over and wondered how on earth she'd been lucky enough to draw the attention of such a fine man.

Forrest saw her swooning over him and felt the hint of a smile tease the corner of his mouth. She saw it and before she could say a word he kissed her passionately, stepped away, and went to pick up the deer. The trek back was quick and soon enough the doe was hanging from a tree ready to be gutted and cleaned. Hunting knife in hand Charlie went to make the slice down the belly but Forrest stopped her.

"Go on in and change out of those wet clothes, Jack and I will see to it," he grunted, nodding to the door.

Handing over her knife she was glad for the offer, her clothes soaking wet from their tumble in the snow. Stepping inside she called Jack and told him his brother needed his help, saw the boy turn a little green, and decided gutting a deer would be good for him. As she freshened up she could hear the youngest Bondurant cursing up a storm and chuckled to herself. By the time she came downstairs she was dressed as a woman again, clean, warm, and pretty.

After a day of preparing and seasoning the deer for sausages, steaks, you name it, the four of them sat around one of the tables listening to the radio, each sipping their own jar. When it began to grow dark Forrest shoed his brothers, sending them home with enough meat to see them though the coming storm. An unspoken cue to stay away… one only Howard picked up on… and kept his word to Charlotte. Four days of snow and not a soul in sight made for some slow languid days before the fire and hot passionate nights between the sheets. Even new to the sport Charlie kept him on his toes, not a touch bashful as she discovered Forrest's love of the tricks she'd heard of over the years.

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**Thanks for reading!**


	13. Chapter 12

**I'm preparing to drive across country and have been swamped with preparations. Please forgive me for taking so long to get this out. Love you guys.**

**ChaosEver and Guest x you are so awesome for reviewing! Thank you.**

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**Chapter 12**

"You gotta knead the dough with a roll of your wrist," Bertha explained for the third time. "Not punch at it, Charlie."

Charlie's low honest laughter could not be stopped. Chuckling at herself she tried again and failed to imitate the superior baker at her side.

Leaning close Bertha gave her a wicked look and whispered, "It's like running your fingers through a man's hair, smooth and gentle…" The analogy made sense to Charlie who immediately did it right. "There you go."

It was a cold February morning while the two women worked to make bread for the upcoming week.

"Anything special you want to make today, Charlie," Bertha was giving her that innocent doe eyed look, marking the true mischievous imp inside.

Smearing some flour across her cheek as she brushed an escaped lock of hair from her face Charlie raised a brow. "What do you mean?" glancing back at the table covered with various baked and unbaked bread she looked over their work and shrugged. "Don't you think that's enough?"

"Well menfolk tend to expect something special on a day like today." Tiny hands formed the dough into a braided loaf. "You want to bake him a pie?"

"What day?" Charlie was trying to figure out what on earth she was missing.

Bertha edged closer when the thuds of her daddy's footsteps sounded outside the kitchen. "Valentine's Day you dolt."

Laughing at herself Charlie gave an apologetic smirk. "And just who would I be making a pie for?"

"You don't fool me an iota, all calf eyed when you think no one is lookin." The wicked grin she knew so well was plastered on Bertha's pretty face. "And we all saw him staring all hot and bothered at you during the Christmas Hoedown two months back… heard he threatened another suitor."

"Who Howard?"

They both just burst out laughing so loud Pastor Minnix looked in the window to see just what the two girls were giggling about now. When the man moved on to tend to his chores Charlie looked at Bertha with a serious expression. "If you think he is the type of man who is going to buy me a card you are dead wrong."

Bertha shrugged. "That don't mean you can't do it right… train him up, as it were, for next year."

Next year? The thought that Forrest Bondurant might still want her in a year made her heart race. The fact she might be in Franklin that long just seemed so exciting. In the back of her mind she'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop, set her expectations ridiculously low to keep from disappointment… but deep down she wanted him to keep her. Problem was Forrest knew where she came from; no man in his right mind would want that in their bloodline. It was only a matter of time before he wised up and ran her off.

"Why do you look sad all of a sudden?" Bertha's small hand came to her arm in a pat. "I didn't mean to upset you, Charlie."

The smile was back in place once she realized her face had become gloomy. "You didn't. And it's sound advice… men do like to eat."

"And those Bondurants… they eat the whole dang pie in one sitting. Have you seen Jack? Proud as a peacock as he shovels it down." Bertha snorted and saw the sparkle back in Charlie's eye. "What do you want to make him?"

Charlie looked uncertain. Forrest might not appreciate the act, might get moody or embarrassed if she publicly gave him a treat… but something in Bertha's words was wise. She could set the precedent; she should enjoy doing it because that's what women were supposed to do for their sweethearts.

"I have always wanted to make Chocolate Icebox Pie…" Charlie was wringing her hands as she said the words, feeling like it might be a mistake.

"Good thing we have all the ingredients to make it." A self-satisfied Cheshire grin spread Bertha's face.

By the time they were finished Charlie's arm was sore from beating all the whip cream into oblivion. The pie itself looked amazing, far better than anything she had made before.

"Now go home, gussy up, put on some perfume… and give him this pie." Bertha nudged her out the door eager to get to work on her own gift for Jack.

Walking through the front of the station with her basket of fresh baked bread she found it to be rather busy. Jack was serving the room and tossed her a smile when he recognized she'd clearly spent the morning with his sweetheart. Going to work putting the bread away Charlie carefully hid the pie out of sight, unsure if she was supposed to give it to Forrest directly or just leave it out for him to find when he came home. Either way she was feeling mighty foolish and just went upstairs to clean up.

An hour later she was in a dress she knew Forrest liked with her hair fluffed up and her lips freshly painted. Sitting at the bar she read Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, so totally immersed as she turned the pages that she did not hear Forrest and Howard return. A packet of three letters was set on the bar before her, making Charlie jump in her seat as the edge of the envelopes hit the bar with a snap.

A low gruff moody voice bluntly stated, "These were at the post office for you Charlotte." Forrest met her arched eyebrow expression for only an instant before walking past to his office and shutting the door.

Sapphire eyes looked down at the red and white various sized envelops as she pursed her lips.

"Well, aren't you gonna open them?" Howard asked, easing up to the bar at her side to spy.

Looking perplexed she answered, "I don't know. What are they?"

"What are they?" He shook his head and smirked before opening the jar in his pocket. "You got valentines, girl."

Her finger poked at the three different envelopes, wondering if one was from Forrest, and with a little blush reached for the least fancy of the bunch. Howard was watching her so closely she gave him a glare but opened the envelope and slid out a pretty card from James Thompson. The next was from Martha and Floyd with an invitation to visit for Easter, that one made her smile and stand the card up before her where she could look at the brightly colored flowers and hearts decorating the clearly expensive card. The third one was from Tommy. After she opened it Charlie made a disgusted throat noise and tossed it aside, her eyes going back to the pretty one set up before her.

"Get any good ones?" Howard had been blatantly trying read over her shoulder.

A small happy smile was one her lips as she gestured toward the one on display. "Martha sent me this one. It's pretty. I've never got one before…"

"Who sent the other two?" Howard just reached across her, snapping them up and peeking inside as she rolled her eyes. "My my, looks like James Thompson is smitten with the new girl in town… Look, there is even a hand written note: _For the prettiest girl in Franklin…_ Awww, don't that just beat all." Howard drolled all lovey-dovey.

Charlie could not help but laugh at his teasing, "How much you want to bet he sent out exact copies of that card to the other women of Franklin? I'm new around here and even I know not to go near that man with a ten foot pole."

Jack and Howard were laughing at the truth of her words.

"And what does Tommy's say?" Howard asked opening the huge card

"I didn't read it once I saw the sender," Charlie stated honestly.

"Mmmmhmm mmmhmm," Howard was mumbling nodding as he read what he made out to be an epic poem. "Yup… that man wants to marry you."

"Fat chance," she snorted, very unladylike as she watched Howard bob his head and purse his lips while he read.

Forrest had been watching the exchange from a crack in his office door, jaw clenched at the sight. James Thompson was gonna get a fat lip and black eye next time he saw him… and as for Tommy, the last punch he got was nothing short of a swat… Forrest would smash his handsome nose flat.

"How about you Howard?" Charlie gave him a devilish grin. "Did you get any valentines?"

He let out a playfully sad breath, batting his eyelashes. "Sadly no."

"You want one of mine?" Laughing at his antics she handed him the one from James Thompson then looked to Jack. "How about you?"

"I'll be gettin mine later," Jack said, awful proud of himself.

Charlie stood up and snuck back into the storage closet to grab two heart shaped cookies, one for each of them. "Happy Valentine's day."

Howard always loved the days Charlie came back for baking with Bertha. He took a big bite and groaned in approval, "That's a damn good cookie Charlie."

She just shook her head and picked up her book, absentmindedly rubbing her sore arm as she read. Jack went back to working the busy room and Howard sat down to a game of poker with some of the regular drunks. A little while later the office door opened and Charlie looked up with a smile for Forrest only to see him glaring, really glaring to the point his grey eyes were aflame.

He stopped at her side at the bar and looked at the discarded letters with hate before speaking, "Why you keep rubbin your arm?"

Bashfully she looked down at the sore appendage. "Let's just say I put it to good work today with Bertha."

He grunted and looked to the grill before reaching into his pocket and silently sliding a small box in front of her. Her eyes saw the gold tin and knew it was full of chocolate. When Forrest saw the smile that came to life on her face as she looked down at the gift it almost made up for the hugely awkward moment of giving it to her. Red up to the tips of his ears Forrest then put down a modest card and looked like he wanted nothing more than to run from the room.

Her fingers went to take the pink envelope and opened it with care to find a sweet little card that was tasteful and not too frilly. Something about getting one from him, from a man she knew must have hated buying it with a passion made her leap from her chair and lay one on him right there in the middle of the station, not a care for who saw what she did. Her arms were around his neck as she tugged him close and pressed her lips to his. Catcalls and whistles sounded from the drunks as she pulled back, blushing once she realized what she'd done. Unwilling to let the moment go she smiled beautifully, excited and happy. "Wait right here while I fetch yours."

Once she was out of sight grey eyes scanned the room with such concentrated intimidation that each man making a whoop quickly shut his trap. By the time Charlie was coming back with her beautiful pie in hand the room was back to behaving, except Howard who was still snickering in his jar.

"I made this…" She was looking bashful as she stumbled over the words. "I wasn't sure if you…" She swallowed, smiled, and just handed the damn thing over. "I hope you like it."

It was a fancy looking pie, covered in stiff whipped cream and shaved chocolate, smelling sweet as the woman who made it.

"If you like, take a seat and I will cut you a slice now." She looked so eager Forrest could not deny her despite his discomfort with the whole room watching them. With a grunt he sat the pie on the bar and took his customary stool.

Grinning like fool she went back and cut him the first slice, watching him take a bite with a stupid smirk and her lower lip between her teeth. When the fork was between his full lips the scowl all but fell off his face as he tasted what she had made special for him.

"That's a mighty fine piece of pie, Charlotte," Forrest grumbled scooping up a second bite and looking like a well pleased man.

Forrest did not think it was possible for her grin to get any bigger or any brighter but at his praise it surely did. She opened her tin of chocolates and popped one in her mouth, very happy she had followed Bertha's advice. Setting down the fancy card from the Banners she put his in its place where she could look at it all she pleased.

When supper came greens and pork chops were on the menu and once they ate their fill Howard went to get himself a slice of chocolate pie only to have Forrest stand and take it from him, giving him a look that made it clear if anyone else so much as tried a bite they would deal with his wrath. "You ate your cookie, leave my pie be."

He did not realize the slip but Charlie caught on, realizing he must have been watching them as she opened her cards… his little burst of temper when he showed up with letters from other men. Forrest Bondurant had been jealous.

Forrest started eating the piece he took from Howard and Charlie gave him a warning look. "If you eat that whole pie you are going to make yourself sick, Forrest." He just took another bite, completely unconcerned, and made her laugh. "Since you seem so keen on it I almost hesitate to ask… but… I will trade you one of my chocolates for a taste." Her eyes were glowing playfully when he loaded the fork with a perfect bite and held it up for her. He slid it between her lips, and watched Charlie close her eyes when it hit her tongue. It was a damn good piece of pie.

When her eyes opened he was poking through her box of chocolates, picking one with a look on his face that said, fair is fair. She was cracking up as she walked away, snatching her chocolate and taking it up to her room before Howard or Jack tried to steal one… and knowing them they would.

Once up in her room Charlie sat Martha's card on her bureau with Forrest's in front, having tossed the other two in the waste basket in the kitchen. She could hear the men closing up early, the sounds of grumbled complaints from the drunks who wanted to stay making her chuckle as Charlie brushed her hair and changing into something that was going to drive Forrest to distraction.

Downstairs, Howard saw the discarded valentines and reached into the garbage to laugh over what a fool his brother had been. After Jack ran off for his secret rendezvous with Bertha Howard held up the cards and waved them in front of Forrest. "I don't think I ever saw a girl smile so big for one little box of chocolate… wish I could've seen you buy it. Was Mrs. Miller itching to ask you who it was for?"

Everyone knew who it was for. The whole damn town had been yapping about it since they saw him dance at the Christmas Hoedown, no doubt. Shooting his brother an unamused glance Forrest went back to counting the money.

"You are one lucky bastard Forrest." Howard dropped the unwanted cards and took a seat, pulling a long drink of shine. "She certainly has stars in her eyes. Best marry that girl soon before she realizes what a jackass you are."

With the stress of handing over the gift for his girl past him Forrest's mind was somewhere else. Something had been bothering him. "What did you think of those men from Roscoe that came by last week?" It was rare for Forrest to ask his brothers opinion on the business, usually one hundred percent confident in his actions. "They want to come through night after next for sixty gallons but something about it just don't smell right."

Leaning back in his chair Howard moved his jaw side to side and thought it over. "You thinkin they are affiliated with the ATU?"

Forrest grunted and shook his head, looking up slowly from the money. "No. Not ATU… but some kind of trouble."

Truth was Forrest did not like the way one of the boys kept glancing at Charlotte as she read her book by the fire… like he knew her. Forrest had kept an eye close to home, thought maybe he was addlepated, looking for a distraction, as he fretted over that damn holiday. He knew her skill for faces, Charlie had pointed out some truly terrible men who came through his station but had said and done nothing when she glanced at the men that night. And Forrest could read her, knew every tick of her expression after long months of study.

"I'll be here, Jack too. Let Charlie keep vigil as she does, if there's trouble it will be handled."

Forrest grunted in agreement, accustomed now to Charlotte's eye on the business and occasional interference when things got just a little too heated. After tomorrow run to Richmond he would keep his focus on the men and feel out the deal. If there was really something going on then it would end in blood, no doubt… and not his.

Shifting his mass out of the chair Forrest motioned to the door. "That's it for tonight. Take it easy on the jar tomorrow, it's rough road to Richmond."

Howard shuffled out, muttering about what a stingy prick his brother was for not sharing his pie, only to hear the door slam and lock behind him. Turning off the lights, Forrest hurried upstairs to find Charlie lying in their bed wearing something so filmy it was transparent, glowing like gossamer over her rosy nipples. Posing like a pin up, Charlie gave him that hungry lust filled look she laid on Forrest when her eyes were only for him.

"When I made that pie I might have had just a bit too much whipped cream left over." The wickedness of her smirk made him swallow as he watched her move to her knees and beckon him over. "It would be a shame to put it to waste..."

* * *

After the wild night Charlie and Forrest had shared she woke up with a wonderful lightness of spirit. The way he had pounced on her for all her teasing had been nothing but fun. Her poor little gossamer gown had lasted less than ten minutes before he tore it down the middle, past caution from her tricks with the whipped cream. Needless to say, not a dollop was wasted.

He had doted on her in the dark, grunted as he ran his tongue across her flesh in search of any missed sweetness from her game. It was times like that Charlie marveled at the man. He was so gruff and distant with folks, completely assertive in his bearing when he interacted with his community, but when they were in bed... he did not need to speak to make it clear he was delighted. And, he was anything but distant. Forrest spoke with his actions, took an extravagant amount of time seeing to her gratification, and held not an ounce of shyness or hesitation.

In the morning light Charlie sat up to find the mayhem of the room and her jaw dropped at the sight. They had done a number on the bed, had somehow moved it several feet during the first, maybe second... perhaps the third round of lovemaking. Items had been knocked of the dresser. Beyond that, somehow the spindle chair had been broken too and, for the life of her, Charlie could not recall how on earth that had happened. When they both discovered it, Charlie blushed scarlet and Forrest actually chuckled, then laughed even louder at the embarrassed expression he found on her face.

Knowing one way to settle her spirits he pressed is lips to her throat and rolled her naked body beneath him, ignoring the disarray. By the time breakfast came she was loose limbed and smiling stupidly.

The station had been closed for the day so that the Bondurants, with Charlie's help, could prepare for the Richmond run. The morning and afternoon were dedicated to filling up jar after jar of moonshine and once dusk arrived she was dropped off at the station and the men were on the road.

With privacy and silence at Blackwater, Charlie straightened their bedroom, still shocked at the number they had done on the place. After a quick supper of leftovers she found herself soaking in the tub. How different it was to be there without the perpetual sounds of customers talking or the hum of the radio. It was a little much having constant noise and raucous party downstairs most nights and Charlie wondered how a reserved man like Forrest had grown accustomed to it. She was so focused on the empty silence as she stood from the tub and dried her body that it was impossible to miss the small crack and scrape of the lock being picked downstairs. Slipping her arms with the speed of a woman accustomed to adrenaline through the nightshirt Forrest left hanging on the bathroom door, Charlie had the riffle at her shoulder as she slipped toward the dark bedroom to grab the spare shotgun off the wall for backup. Whoever the fuck had just broken in was going to leave bleeding… if they left at all.

* * *

A flat tire had slowed their way as the Bondurant boys dodged ATU and non-friendly sheriffs of other far less understanding counties. By the time they made their goal they were two hours behind and Forrest, though silent, was in a foul mood. At this rate they would not be back home before sunup. Watching the men unload under the supervision of Howard and Jack, Forrest puffed his cigar and tried not to growl as the Richmond gangsters moved slow as molasses on a cold day.

When they finally reached the Franklin county line it was almost seven o'clock in the morning. Daylight shined off the roadside sludge as Forrest puffed his cigar and looked out toward the station. There should have been a trail of smoke coming off the chimney and he wondered if Charlotte had forgotten to add a log before bed. When the car pulled up and a man's stiff corpse was lifeless on the steps. Forrest bounded from the car before Jack could hit the brakes, running forward with Howard shouting behind him. The frozen body looked like he'd tried to drag himself away, until the bastard had died from a bullet to the lung.

The door was wide open, pools of blood on the wood floor around a second man dead at the threshold. Stepping over the body Forrest found the station in disarray. Several tables knocked aside, chairs overturned, and two more dead men… men he recognized as the boys from Roscoe he was set to do business with that very night. Breathing hard and eyes wide he looked for a sign of the golden girl, the Blackbird who never misses, and tore through the room mindless of where he stepped.

Another corpse was in the station's back corridor, torn apart by close range buckshot to the chest. A horrible feeling clenched at his gut when he found Charlie's riffle abandoned on the ground near a smear of rust colored footsteps leading out the back door.

"She's over here!" Howard shouted from the main room.

Forrest rushed back to find his brother squatting near the corner where the golden girl was mostly hidden from view by the stove. Her blonde head was hanging down, leaning at an unnatural angle on her shoulder, face covered by wild lank hair. The awkward sprawl of her body, the shotgun in her lap, and the stillness of her far too pale body caused the blood to race through Forrest veins as he crouched down low to check on her.

She was dressed in his nightshirt, long legs exposed, and covered in flaking rust red. One lily white limp hand sagged on the shotgun's trigger, the second rested on the ground sitting in a pool of blood that had spread around her, drying to a reddish black. A tightly bound tourniquet gripped around her arm, just below the elbow, above where a nasty slice had opened a vein.

"Charlotte," he whispered kneeling before her, eyes wide as he silently begged god that she lived.

The blonde head lolling at her shoulder was carefully moved by warm male hands. Forrest noticed Charlie's chest was fluttering like a bird, expanding with little puffs of air in small gasps, and knew she held on by a thread. Sapphire eyes dim and near death opened to slits in the pallor of her face.

"One got away." She could barely croak the words over the swelling in her throat. That's when he noticed the black and blue bruises hidden by her hair marring the white smoothness of her neck, and the blood dripping down the wall where her head had been resting.

"Jack, start the car," Forrest yelled, scooping her up and rushing with her out the door. "Howard, see if any of these bastards are alive before you call the sheriff."

Forrest drove her the twenty miles to the hospital at breakneck speed, certain that at any moment he was going to lose her. She looked so small curled up under his coat on the seat beside him. When he burst through the doors with the blood soaked woman, he shoved all others aside and demanded she be tended to immediately. The doctors and nurses rushed to take her from him, had to pry her away to put the golden girl on a gurney… to take her where he could no longer stay at her side.

* * *

It was another day before Charlie opened her eyes, looked around the unknown room with angry confusion. She swallowed and grimaced at the tenderness in her throat. A pained grunt was followed with her trying to sit up only to have warm large hands come to her shoulders to gently push her back against the pillows.

"Easy now spitfire."

That voice… trying to focus passed the hammer pounding at her skull bloodshot blue eyes turned in their sockets to find a familiar rugged face leaning over her. She stopped struggling at once. Her undamaged hand reached weakly toward him as if he must be a mirage and when he took it, held it in his, she began to breathe normally and her heart stopped racing.

Charlie did not want to talk yet, was content to only stare at his grey eyes as slowly the night came back to her. She remembered shooting the first two men at the door, hoping their deaths might be warning to any others foolish enough to come to her nest uninvited. Moving in the dark she took position at the passage to the stairs. Two more men came in hollering threats that he was a dead man, not realizing a woman was the one blowing them apart. She killed those two as well before a brute appeared behind her.

While cursing her stupidity for forgetting the backdoor, hands came round her neck to choke the life out of her. The brute had banged her head back against the wall, causing Charlie to fumble and drop her rifle. As the world spun she moved on impulse and struggled to place the backup shotgun swinging from her shoulder at his belly… then pulled the trigger. As he fell another man swung at her with a blade, her arm shot up to defend her torso only to have him slice through the soft flesh of her forearm before she shot him too… the buckshot only grazing his thigh. When he saw her in the flash of gunpowder her eyes took in his face, remembered him from a few nights before. Barrel empty she staggered, ready to swing the shotgun like a club. Cursing he gripped his bleeding leg and stumbled out the back, leaving a trail of blood all the way to the car the men had pushed up into the drive… and he just left her there while Charlie was bleeding out, pathetically trying to reload.

She could feel her lifeblood pumping from her arm and the dizzying pain of the mashed up back of her head. Ripping Forrest's old night shirt Charlie used the scrap as a tourniquet before weaving toward the stove in the corner, leaning back in the shadows with her shotgun in case the wounded man came back to finish the job. She listened to the sounds of the men dying around her as she kept her vigil… until her eyes closed in a wave of warm vertigo.

"One got away," Charlie whispered hoarsely. "I… I didn't kill him," she swallowed and growled at the discomfort, "Only grazed his thigh with buckshot." Absolutely disgusted with herself for missing, Charlie clenched her jaw.

"Do you know the men who hurt you?" Forrest's eyes were blazing under the scowl but his hand and voice were gentle.

There was a soft pained wheeze while Charlie took her time, working around her throat to speak. "No, but I recognize them from a few nights back… from Roscoe. The skinny blonde one with the thin mustache and scar on his left cheek… he's the one that got away." Closing her eyes she let out a shallow breath, feeling in her bones that something wasn't right about the whole thing.

Her awareness was coming out of the fog and Charlie took full measure of the damage, it hurt but she'd suffered far worse. Looking down at her left hand she found it bandaged, with a pink line of blood marring the white of the gauze. Lifting it up she felt the tightness of her skin pulling the stiches and went to peel back the bandage only to have Forrest take her feeble fingers and put her back as she was.

"I want… to go home." Even dead tired and wounded she was obstinate as she looked toward her lover.

Forrest shook his head. "No darlin, you are staying here until the doctor says otherwise."

"I don't like hospitals," Her eyes were growing sad and heavy… her mother had been trapped in few horrible ones where they mistreated her. A few she had to break her mamma out of when the cops took the crazy woman and locked her up… the astringent smell, the screams of other patients. Charlie wanted out. "When… when can I leave?"

"A few days yet," he grunted and watched her glance away to close her eyes knowing that look and knowing she was going to be difficult once a modicum of strength returned.

When the doctor came on rounds to poke and prod her she glared but obeyed, demanding to be released in her pathetic croak of a voice. Apparently accustomed to difficult patients Dr. Glick took a firm tone, "No Miss. You have had a blood transfusion, a sliced vein, your throat is far too swollen, not to mention a worrisome concussion."

Trying to hide the pain she stated in a broken voice, "I feel fine, I won't stay here."

"The dilation of your pupils says otherwise. Until I know you are stable you will not be leaving that bed."

She damn well would be, first time she was alone Charlie was going to get the fuck out of there. As if reading her thoughts Forrest growled at her right in front of the doctor and she just growled back. Dr. Glick put his lips in a line to prevent from cracking a smirk as he left the room. Forrest Bondurant was always a pain in the ass patient and now it looked like his woman was just as feisty as the legend himself… and would be given a taste of his own medicine.

When the man was gone Charlie narrowed her eyes and demanded, "I want my riffle."

"No."

"God damn it, Forrest," the breathy wheeze was full of frustration.

He leaned closer, gruff and intimidating. "Charlotte, you will stay in that bed and behave yourself or god help me I will tie you to the fuckin frame."

Charlie knew she was being difficult, recognized that she was not used to anyone looking after her and chafing at it. As if to pacify both of them she squeezed the warm hand that held hers and felt him run his thumb gently over her skin, but his eyes never lost the threatening hardness, not falling for her trick for a minute. It made her quirk the tiniest of smirks before she closed her eyes and fell back into sleep.

She was woken at supper, Forrest still at her side, as the nurse helped her sit up to eat. Unappetizing grey mashed food sat next to a steaming cup of warm tea. Her hands went to the cup and sipped the brew sweetened with a healthy dose of honey. It soothed her aching throat. Looking at Forrest she found approval and a small dash of pride in his expression and knew he had told them to bring her tea, probably sent someone out to buy the brand she liked best, knowing it would comfort her.

She smiled a little and sipped some more as she watched him watch her. When she put the cup back and made no move to touch the mystery mashed food he grunted at her and cocked his chin. Reluctantly, she took the spoon and ate exactly seven bites of the foul stuff. Setting the spoon down she pushed the tray away preparing to settle back for more enforced rest.

Abrasive, gruff, he demanded, "Eat it."

"Bring me my riffle," she countered.

He picked up the spoon and scooped up a small amount for her, once again all moody and determined.

"Try it," she whispered challengingly, "and tell me you would eat that shit."

He took the bite and swallowed with no hesitation then got another scoop for her. When she went to take the spoon from his hand he pulled it out of her reach before bringing it up to her mouth again. He fed her the whole damn thing, bullying her into behaving as she looked into familiar and beautiful grey eyes.

The next time she woke Howard was there dozing. It was the pitch black of night and when she moved slowly to creep out of bed he spoke from the shadows, "You put one toe out of that bed, Charlie, and there will be hell to pay."

Grumbling she turned to face him, "I don't want to be here, Howard. Take me home."

He was grumbly when he looked up and glared hard at her. "You'll stay. Now stop whinin, I'm tired."

By the third day she was allowed to walk to the toilet. Relieved, she scooted her legs to the side and pressed her toes to the cold floor, glad to have something solid underfoot and beyond glad that she would at least be allowed to use the bathroom without a nurse as her audience. It was the only time the men had left the room, yet they still stood sentry at the door. Every moment had been twenty four hour surveillance by one of the Bondurants. Forrest was there all day, pestering her with his glares and grunts until she did as he wanted. He brought her food, mashed up things he knew she liked, to save her from the grey sludge, even a slice of his Valentine's Day chocolate pie. That had made her laugh… but he only fed her the soft chocolate filling and kept the crust for himself, eyes devilish as he ate it right in front of her.

Bertha was allowed to visit the fourth afternoon, sitting at her bedside and whispering in her ear, making Charlie laugh for half an hour despite the pain in her shoddy throat until Forrest saw her grimace from across the room and ordered the little woman away as politely as the agitated bear could. For such a small snip of a girl Bertha met Forrest's grumpy mood with a knowing confident smile and departed, leaving behind a jar of applesauce and some jello.

On the afternoon of the fifth day Charlie was in bed reading the Virginia Woolf novel Forrest had brought her from home when Dr. Glick came in, checked her thoroughly, and said she was free to leave so long as she followed his directions to: change her bandage daily, eat soft foods, and get plenty of rest. Charlie flew out of bed so quickly that her legs wobbled and Forrest had to catch her, threatening that if she did not slow down he would make the doctor keep her until she learned sense. The old man chuckled all the way out the door. Mr. Bondurant had been just as bad… if not worse.

Feeling the sunshine and the wind in her hair as Forrest drove her back to the station was bliss. Jack and Howard were inside, along with a few afternoon patrons. The floors and walls had been scrubbed clean of the blood, looking just as they always had. Stopping at the door she surveyed the places each man had died with a dark scowl on her brow and her teeth clenched. Absently, she scratched at her bandaged arm and growled deep in her chest, startling the customers.

A hand came to her lower back, waking her up from the memory, and led her toward her rocking chair by the fire. Forrest sat her down, handed her a book, and ordered Jack to make her tea with honey before going to his office. The book was in her hand and a few minutes later the tea too but her eyes were at the wall where she had almost bled to death. It was then she realized she had never thanked him.

Standing she crossed the room and knocked on Forrest's door. He barked, assuming it was Jack, and she pushed it open, absorbing the mild surprise on Forrest's brow.

"I never said thank you," she mumbled, her voice still raspy from the attack. "I should have said thank you."

The look on his face went from slightly shocked wide eyes to a flash of guilt. It was then she realized he blamed himself for what happened. Shaking her head she closed the door behind her and confronted him, standing before his seated form. Her hand went to his stubbled cheek as she held his eyes and scowled. "It was not your fault, Forrest."

He grunted and she shushed him and began to stroke the short hair at his temple, saw him close his eyes for just a moment to enjoy it. "If I had been thinking I would have realized the backdoor was right behind me… so you see, it was my fault. And I am sorry."

"Charlotte you are a damn fool if you think that. They came into my house, harmed my woman. I found you barely alive in a pool of fuckin blood." His voice was a deadly reverberation as she saw his true rage. "I am gonna find that man and I am gonna kill him."

_Not if I find him first._

"We both know he's long gone. Men like that don't come back. He's running scared somewhere with a limp." But new men may be sent… that was a hired group of thugs if she ever saw one. The only question now was, who did the hiring and why?

Pulling his lips into a snarl Forrest surged from his chair at what he saw clear as day in her eyes. "Whatever you are thinkin, whatever plots are cooking up in your head… stop it now. You ain't leavin over this, Charlotte."

"Leaving?" She raised a brow, her voice affronted. "I love you, Forrest Bondurant. I'm not leaving you until you tell me to go." It was said so simply, effortlessly. Charlie turned to slip out, closing the door behind her as he stood, eyes wide at her words and stunned to stillness.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**


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